


Loki's Song

by NotEvenCloseToStraight



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, But Its Not Permanent, Character Death, Domestic, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Falling In Love, Feels, First Kisses, Fluff, FrostIron - Freeform, Happily Ever After, Healing, Heavy Angst, Hurt Tony Stark, M/M, Norse Legends, Post-CACW, Retirement, Soulmarks, Soulmate AU, Soulmates, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Tony isn't Iron Man Anymore, but nothing graphic, tw:self harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-08
Updated: 2018-06-07
Packaged: 2018-10-01 05:32:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 24,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10181747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotEvenCloseToStraight/pseuds/NotEvenCloseToStraight
Summary: Loki has spent a thousand years searching for his Soulmate, traveling the skies and jumping through realms looking for the one whose spirit shines bright enough to bring him home.Tony has had a Soulmark since he was born, and knows his Soulmate is someone not of this world, but after years of heartbreak, after his parents death, after New York and his PTSD and losing Pepper, he has given up on the idea of true love, of a soulmate, and ignores the mark on his arm.When the Accords tear Tony’s life apart, he runs and leaves everything behind to live alone on the edge of a wild lake, drinking and staring out the window as he watches the seasons pass.But then Loki lands in his living room, and Tony comes face to face with his Soulmate, and suddenly has to deal with everything he had pushed away for all these years.Somehow together, they discover love, healing, and find the peace that only comes in the arms of your Soulmate.And at night Loki sings to Tony, the song of the Sky Traveler and the spirit light that called him home, two Soulmates whose bond was so strong not even death could keep them apart.(Re-edited and Reposted, divided into Chapters)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文 available: [洛基的歌 | Loki's Song](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15358077) by [Nicole_frostironINMYBED](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nicole_frostironINMYBED/pseuds/Nicole_frostironINMYBED)



> The self harm on Tony's part in this chapter is nothing graphic, and explained very carefully. But please oh please be careful if that is a trigger for you.  
> 

A soulmark is a beautiful thing, something to be proud of, something to hold dear, an assurance that there is someone out there for you, someone waiting to hold you, someone who completes you in every way, someone who knows the best day of their life will be the day they meet  _you_ for the very first time. **  
**

Most people hit puberty before their Mark appears. Some people have to wait until into their twenties. Most of the time it’s the first name of their soulmate. Sometimes it is a symbol representing that person. Rarely, it’s an entire phrase traveling up their arm or across their back, or imprinted over your heart.

It’s all beautiful, though.

They say when you meet your soulmate, it is a visible, physical reaction. Some people describe it as sparks when their eyes meet. Others say it is like being attached with a cord that kept pulling until they couldn’t resist anymore and had to stay physically close to their mate. Some people, mostly the older generation, talk about actually hearing music when they came across their mate.

A soulmate bond is stronger than marriage, more binding than any legal contract, and out lasting even death. Stories are told in the old countries of soulmates finding each other again and again in each new life, blessed enough to love each other throughout the centuries.

Losing your mate is painful– the beautiful blue of your soulmark turning white as a funeral lily, a physical, deep ache that seems to settle in your bones and seems to never lessen.

It’s no wonder that when one soulmate passes, the other is quick to follow.

Sometimes, people are born after their soulmate passes away, and are doomed to live without a true love, the words on their skin forever white, an empty feeling in their soul that they try to fill with wealth or adventure.

Sometimes people are born without a soulmate at all, no writing ever appearing to mar their skin, no urge to find that one person meant for you, free to fall in and out of love as they please.

Most people consider those without soulmates to be cursed. Some consider them to be lucky.

Tony Stark would have considered himself one of the lucky ones to not have a soulmate. He would have thought himself fortunate to be born after his soulmate had passed. He even would have been happy to meet and lose his soulmate, would have been happy to have that pain consume him.

Because anything would have been better than  _this_.

******************

Anthony Edward Stark had been  _born_ with a soulmark, and instead of a blessing, it was more of a curse.  

The doctors had never seen anything like it, had never had a baby come from the womb with a Mark already staining their skin, and Maria and Howard could only exchange uneasy looks as they held their son.

The Mark was a gorgeous indigo, the letters delicately scrolled down his tiny arm, the language one that no one had ever seen before. Not even Howard, with all his genius and determination could figure out which language his sons soulmark was in, and what name or phrase it said.

Howard wanted to examine it, had  _obsessed_ over it, sure it was something that could be scientifically explained.

Maria simply put her baby in long sleeve onesies and never said a thing about it, not wanting Tony to feel as if he was any different from anyone else, and whispered prayers that it wasn’t some bad omen, that it wasn’t a sign that her son would be destined for a difficult life, or a soulmate that would ruin him.

And for a few years, all was well.

But only for a few years.

The first time it became apparent Tony’s soulmate wasn’t exactly… normal… came when Tony was four, one sunny morning while he was playing in his nursery. The deep blue writing on his arm bled into a pale white, and Tony spent a week in bed with his little heart breaking over the death of his soulmate, too young to even understand what was happening or why he couldn’t stop crying.

The next morning, Tony’s Mark was back to deep blue, the unreadable script as vibrant as it had ever been.

And four year old Tony reached for his markers and scribbled over the Mark until his arm was raw, still not quite understanding what had happened, but upset at the pain anyway.

It happened again halfway through his kindergarten year, blue fading to white and Tony stayed away from school to hide in his room, rubbing at his arm and staining his mama’s blouse with tears.

A phone call from school when he was seven, and Maria had to go and bring Tony home. The Mark had bled white during recess and Tony had collapsed in a fit of hysterics.

“Why mama?” he cried, holding onto her so tightly that it nearly hurt. “Why is this happening again? Why does it hurt so much?”

“Sweetheart.” Maria murmured, wrapping her arms around his trembling frame and tried to find the right words to explain the soulmate bond to a child.

“Tony, sweetheart, most people’s soulmates walk this earth. Others have soulmates who aren't… who aren’t here anymore. And then, some souls have to travel the skies, searching for their soulmate, searching for the one that will complete them.”

“I do not understand what is happening.” She confessed, kissing his tear stained cheeks. “But just because we do not understand, doesn’t make the one meant for you any less real, or any less important. Just because we don’t know what’s going on doesn’t mean that this–this–” a shaky breath.

“Tony, just because we don’t understand, doesn’t mean it’s a bad thing. I’m sure your soulmate is just as confused as you are about all of it. We will have to be patient and try to– try to–” Maria’s steady words finally failed her, and she pressed her lips to her sons head and let her own tears fall.

Tony cried until he couldn’t hardly breathe, scratching at the Mark on his arm until it bled.

********************

Tony was twelve the first time he actually tried to erase the Mark, scrubbing at the blue-turned-white writing with a pumice stone he had found until a maid found him and started crying out for help and for bandages.

Howard was furious, shaking his son until Tony ripped away, screaming at his father to  _leave him alone._

“Why are you hurting yourself?” Howard roared. “I will not stand for you hurting yourself!”

Tony cradled his bleeding arm to his chest and yelled right back, “I hate him!”

“Who?!”

“My soulmate!” Tony ripped the gauze off, to show Howard the white Mark. “He died again and I hate him!”

“Your soulmate is a  _he_?” Howard asked, and Tony saw all the disgust written across his father’s face.

“Well then.” Tony smiled bitterly. “You hate him now too, don’t you?”

************************

When Tony was seventeen, he was rushed to the hospital for a severe burn, his mother crying next to him. Tony just grit his teeth and held the compress to his upper arm, refusing to scream.

“Honey  _why_? Why would you do this? Why are you hurting yourself? Why would you do this?!” Maria was hysterical, nearly to the point of needing a sedative and Tony closed his eyes so he wouldn’t have to see her tears.

“I am  _tired_ of him doing this to me.”

“Wha-what?” Maria wiped at her own tears and reached out to touch his face. “What do you mean, baby? What do you mean?”

“Five times.” Tony said dully. “Five times my mate has died, or pretended to die, and each it’s nearly driven me mad and I. am. done.”

“Oh honey.” Fresh tears from Maria. “Tony, burning the Mark off your arm won’t change the fact that you have a soul mate out there. The Mark is just so you can find him. Trying to destroy it won’t erase– it won’t erase–”

“Maybe not.” Tony laid his hand over hers, trying to comfort her. “But I hope this hurt him as badly as it hurt me. That would make it worth it.”

“A  _knife_ , baby.” Maria choked out. “You put a red hot knife to your arm and scarred yourself and–”

“And I hope he screamed.” was all Tony said, turning his head away to stare at the wall of the ambulance.

Three days later, Maria stood outside Tony’s door and listened to him destroy everything in his room after the burn disappeared and his Mark flooded with blue again.

******************

The last time Tony tried to erase the Mark was after his parents died.

Rhodey drove Tony out to the stretch of road and they walked over the broken glass, flinched away from the blood that hadn’t quite washed off the rocks, and then went and bought any kind of alcohol that looked even halfway decent and drank themselves into a mess on the floor of Rhodey’s apartment.

It was then, swaying on his feet, hardly able to see straight, that Tony stroked the words on his arm, feeling the slightly raised edges, and letting himself hate whoever was on the other side, and told his best friend to take him to a tattoo shop.

 _Maria Collins Carbonell Stark_  was inked down Tony’s arm, from his shoulder to his wrist, completely covering the hated blue script and hurting enough that Tony could forget how badly his heart was broken, at least for a few days.

It was the last time anyone ever asked about his Mark. No one ever brought it up, no one asked if Tony Stark had found his soulmate, and Tony never mentioned it.

He also never told anyone that a mere week after his parents funeral, the soulmark had burned white under the tattoo, and that when the blue had come flowing back after only an hour, it erased every bit of ink on Tony’s arm, his mothers name wiped away by the blue letters that had haunted Tony his entire life.

All Tony could do was pour a whiskey, lock himself in his lab, and ignore it.

And by the time he emerged from the cave in Afghanistan, by the time he was saving the world as Iron Man, Tony was an expert on ignoring the pain, on ignoring the emotional upheaval that threatened to send him to his knees every time his  _fucking_ Mark turned colors again.

In fact, he was such an expert at ignoring it all that when Obadiah ripped the arc reactor from his chest, for one infinitely long, impossibly painful second–

Tony was tired enough that he hoped he really would die.

Maybe then his soulmate would die too.

***********************

***********************

It made Tony uncomfortable, the way the Asgardian watched him. And not only because of the whole  _god_ thing either.

No, there was something…else.

It was uncomfortable.

When Tony knocked him on his ass, goading him to make a move, called him “Reindeer Games”, the god-or whatever- simply stared up at him in shock.

Tony had thought Loki was just in disbelief that a human had managed to stop him, but that–that  didn’t seem quite right.

Even after Thor hauled Loki’s scowling hide into the SHIELD transport, locking him in that glass cage, he had sought out Tony’s gaze, a secret smile lurking on his lips, eyes that were a vivid green following his every move.

And near the end, when Tony landed on the Stark Tower to confront Loki face to face, his arm had started itching so badly he almost couldn’t concentrate, and Loki grinned wickedly, as if he  _knew_ something.

After his crack about performance issues, Loki lifted him by his neck, their faces so close Tony could have leaned in and kissed him, but didn’t,  _of course he didn’t_ , mostly because Loki stared into his eyes for an entirely disconcerting moment that seemed all too vulnerable, before his face shuttered as a mask had fallen, and then he was smirking and tossing Tony out the window and into the open air and there were more pressing things to worry about than why those green eyes had seemed to stare into Tony’s core.

And then, the nuke. And the terrifying trip to space, and the moment when Tony should have died– what a  _relief_ those few seconds of quiet had been–but the Hulk had ripped him back into the land of living with a ground shaking, heart starting roar.

Tony joked about being kissed, had mentioned schwarma, had closed his eyes and told himself not to scream.

And then Tony hadn’t thought about Loki again, not for a few days, because they had lots to do, had to put the city together again, had to deal with aliens and all that.

But when he slept, that little bit of sleep he managed to get at all, he remembered in vivid detail when Loki had  _touched_ him.

The moment where Loki had wrapped that big hand around his neck and lifted him like he was nothing, the first time their bare skin had actually touched, and a  _melody_ had run through Tony’s head. A few bars from a song he’d composed on the piano when he was nine or so. It was there and gone before Tony could catch it, and he didn’t think anything about it at the time, but it wove through his dreams for days.

And later, as he watched Thor take Loki away into that inter-dimensional pathway or rainbow bridge or whatever it was, Loki’s green eyes had met his again, and a few more bars of that song floated through Tony’s head.

He went home and opened a bottle of whiskey and drank until he didn’t hear the music anymore.

******************

“What’s that song, Tony? You’ve been humming it for days and I can’t get it out of my head.”

“Sorry.” He apologized to Pepper absentmindedly, staring out at the water outside of his California home.

“It’s fine.” She reassured him, rubbing his shoulder gently. “You just haven’t played the piano in so long, or even really listened to music that it’s odd to hear you humming.”

Tony turned with a half smile, patting at her hand. They were trying at this whole relationship thing, they really were. They’d shared this lovely dance together , and a great kiss, and and Pepper was… well she blew Tony’s mind in every way. She was everything he needed and all he wanted and they– they were trying  _so hard._

But ever since New York, needing to be an active member of the Avengers, and with the lovely addition of his panic attacks, Tony just wasn't… there with her. Not anymore.

And maybe he hadn’t ever been, not completely. Because Pepper’s soulmark didn’t say  _Anthony_ and Tony didn’t know what his said, but he knew it wasn’t  _Pepper_. And ever since New York, even the blue script hurt now, an ache deep in Tony’s arm that nearly paralyzed him sometimes.

And sweet, perfect, Pepper with her golden soul, understood without even needing an explanation. She quietly moved her things out of the master bedroom and back to her floor. She held his hand in public, more because of his crippling anxiety than for appearances, and every day she took over a little more of the company so it was one less thing for Tony to worry about.

So Tony bought her outrageous gifts as quiet thank you’s, wore long sleeve shirts even in the heat, and hummed that stupid song over and  _over_.

Finally he sat down at the piano, letting the music in his head flow down through his fingers, letting the dark blue script on his arm burn until tears poured down his face, and played the song he had written so long ago, the one that he used to love, and now only hated.

He sat and played and cried and Pepper watched from the doorway with her hand over her mouth, watching the man she loved collapse in on himself.


	2. Chapter 2

It was white again.

Tony stared at the Mark, wondering idly what had happened this time, too far gone in his scotch to really care.

Over the years, he really had gone nearly numb to the pain every time the damn thing turned, when the blue leeched out leaving the white, or when the blue came pouring back in with a rush of heat.

It seemed more potent now, harder to ignore, ever since New York. It had gotten worse again, after the Mandarin, and worse  _again_ when the Accords had ripped everything he thought he loved out of his hands.

It had even taken _Rhodey_. He’d never really bounced back from the accident with Vision and Falcon and even though he had tried over and over to reach out to Tony, Tony had pushed him away.

It was better like this anyway.

Tony felt like he was  _toxic_ , like everything he said was somehow poison. He couldn’t even be in the same room as most of his old team without an argument breaking out, couldn’t talk to the press without ripping into them, and ever since Pepper had—ever since Pepper had—

Tony gripped his glass a little tighter, trying not to think about her.

 _God_ , it still hurt to think about her.

She hadn’t been able to take it, after Extremis. She had tried but Tony was too checked out to give her the help she needed. She had ran then, and he had let her go, knowing that he couldn’t offer her anything anyway. Rumours floated around now, something about a hero named Rescue, saving the world one day at a time, and he knew it was her.

That was good. It was fine. 

Pepper needed…she had needed more than Tony. It was fine. Rhodey needed more than Tony and it was fine.

 _Everyone_ needed more than Tony, which meant  _no one_  needed Tony and that was just…fine.

Even the company ran itself most days, with Tony just signing when needed, answering a phone call if he absolutely had to.

He didn’t even live in New York any more, and he had never bothered to rebuild his California home.

The Avengers were…maybe doing something, he didn’t know. He didn’t care. He wasn’t part of the team anymore, wasn’t welcome anymore, and the Soldier had seemed to step right in to fill his slot next to Cap so that– that was just– that was just—Tony took a drink and quit thinking about that too.

He lived his life far away from that world. He wanted nothing to do with it. Nothing held his interest. Nothing piqued his curiosity. In fact other than the occasional burn of his Mark, Tony didn’t even  _feel_ a whole lot of anything these days, just walked around in something like a numb daze and went to bed alone at night.

He sat on his deck, in the big house overlooking the giant lake just barely on this side of the United States border, and drank his scotch.

Played the piano every night.

Tinkered in his robot free garage.

And wondered how the hell he was in his mid forties and already done with living.

*******************  
*******************  
It was a… thunderclap, maybe, that made Tony drop his glass, shattering the crystal, and spilling the dark liquor all over the floor. **  
**

Not a thunderclap. Maybe something heavy landing? It was sort of like the noise when Thor had landed unceremoniously in the Avengers tower, all loud noise and burn marks on Tony’s overly expensive floors.

 _Annoying_.

But did he care enough to go look?

Sighing, scratching at his arm unconsciously, Tony moved upstairs to the main living room, dragging his feet up the stairs, grasping at the railing to keep his balance, wondering for the thousandth time why he couldn’t have settled on an actual cabin instead of a mansion that  _pretended_ to be a cabin. Really, the house was about two floors and five thousand square feet too big for just him, but Tony Stark had never owned anything modest and he supposed he wasn’t about to start now.

Reaching for a beer from the fridge, unwilling to face mystery noises without a drink in his hand, Tony opened the door to his living room and stopped dead in his tracks at the sight in front of him.

“Oh this is…” the deep voice from the unexpected visitor sounded confused. “This is  _not_ what I expected.”

“Loki.” Tony laughed in disbelief, but it wasn’t really a laugh, even if the disbelief was one hundred percent real, because when was the last time he laughed? “What in the actual fuck are  _you_ doing here?”

“That…” the tall man turned in a slow circle, taking in his surroundings with a wary look, “is an excellent question.”

Tony watched him for a minute, but the Demi-god didn’t say anything else, still staring with wide eyes around the room.

“Well, do you want a beer?” He asked tiredly and Loki quirked a half smile. “I’m sure it’s a long journey from… wherever you came from. And I’m still a decent host if I’m not much else. So. A beer?”

“That would be acceptable. Yes.” Loki stared up at the wooden beams of the vaulted ceiling. “Yes, I think a drink would perhaps…help.”

Tony rolled his eyes at the formal, condescending tone, but still turned back for another bottle, shuffling into the kitchen, well aware of green eyes following his movements.

“Tell me, Stark.” Loki began and Tony hid a shiver behind a cough, legitimately surprised that he felt anything at all, and hating that it had happened when that deep voice rolled over him.

“What could I possibly tell you, Odinson? Or is it  _Laufeyson_? I was never all the way sure about that whole parental thing.” Tony tried for sarcasm, for snark, but the words fell flat, lacking their former bite. “Or since we are apparently friendly enough for you to drop into my house uninvited, should I just call you Loki?”

Loki’s eyes narrowed, his words full of the spite Tony had tried and failed to convey. “Tell me,  _Anthony_ , does your arm still bother you? Or have you given up trying to rip my name from your skin?”

Tony did laugh then, dropping his head against the fridge door with a thump, the sound of his laugh so broken that Loki put his hand over his heart, rubbing the Mark there uncomfortably.

“Of course it’s your Mark.” Tony laughed again and this time Loki backed away a step, flinching away from the sound. “Of  _course_ it is.”

“I–” Loki hesitated now, suddenly unsure of himself. “I do not understand why you find that amusing.”

“It’s not amusing at all.” Tony slammed the fridge door and tossed a bottle at Loki. “It’s not amusing at  _all_.”

*****************

“When did it first appear?” Loki asked, rolling the now empty bottle between his hands. “My Mark. When did you receive it?”

“I was born with it.” Tony answered in an even tone.

Loki raised an eyebrow in question. “Really? Born with it? That’s quite um…”

“Yeah I know. I got to hear all about what a freak I was my entire life.” Tony wasn’t looking, so he didn’t see the flash of anger cross the other man’s face.

“It wasn’t all bad, not at first.” Tony continued. “Kids don’t understand these things, so I wore tank tops and t shirts not realizing what it meant, you know, that not only did I have a Mark, but it was in a language that didn’t exist. Didn’t realize how much of a freak that made me until later.”

“My language has existed for millennia.” Loki countered. “Just because mortals do not understand it, does not make it null.

Tony only shrugged. “While that may be true, it didn’t stop my father from staring at me like I was a…”

“Do not say ‘freak’ again.” Loki warned, anger sparking in his eyes, but Tony ignored him.

“Like I was a  _freak_. But that’s not anything compared to how he looked at me when he discovered my soulmate was a man. That was a whole other level of…” Tony’s voice trailed off and he took a drink to steady himself. “That was a whole other conversation, whole other example of Howards A+ parenting. Ma never seemed to care, but Dad? Yeah. He cared.”

“Anthony…” Loki started carefully. “You know as well as I that we cannot choose the gender of our soulmates.”

Tony shrugged, a bare twitch of annoyance. “Anyway. The first thing that really highlighted my… situation…was when I was four.”

“What happened at that particular age?” Loki leaned forward, listening intently to everything Tony was saying, trying to gauge the emotion playing on Tony’s face.

Only there  _wasn’t_ any emotion. Tony was as blank as a slate, his voice never losing that even, dead pitch. He hardly even moved, looking frozen in his chair as he spoke and it made Loki… hurt.

“When I was four,” Tony said slowly, “you died for the first time. Or at least the first time during my lifetime. And I spent a whole week in bed, crying until I was vomiting, not even able to comprehend why I thought my heart was being ripped out of my chest. Four year olds understand soulmates you know? But they don’t really understand death.”

Loki swallowed hard, thinking back several earth decades to a battle where a spear had gone through his heart. He had lain on the battlefield for days, his body healing so slowly that sometimes he didn’t think it would work at all, and he would die on a muddy field on a no-name planet. He had healed eventually, though it had taken several days. It hadn’t occurred to him once that his soulmate might have thought he died.

“And you… felt that?” Loki whispered. “You felt when I–”

“When my soulmate died? Yeah it was great, thanks.”

“I wasn’t truly dead.” he offered. “I have a remarkable healing ability, being a god and all that. It just takes longer sometimes than others. If that’s–if that’s any consolation.”

“It isn’t.” Tony finished his beer and tossed the bottle, letting it bounce off the trash can with a loud clatter. “It absolutely isn’t.”

Loki waved his hand and the bottle lifted from the floor, settling into the can quietly but Tony ignored the magic show.

“Right around my fifth birthday,” he continued, “you did it again. And again, like second grade-ish. And every time,” Tony tapped his chest, where his arc reactor had sat for so many years. “Every single time it put me on the floor. In bed for days. Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t eat. My mom sat in with me and told me–”

He stopped talking abruptly, and stood up, looking for another drink.

“What did she tell you?” Loki asked, more than curious over why the mention of Tony’s mother had brought about the first bit of emotion he had seen all evening.

Tony shrugged it off. “It doesn’t matter now. It was horrible advice and didn’t help. I didn’t understand it then, and I don’t care to understand it now.”

“I see.” Loki waited a beat before asking– “When did I die next?”

“When I was twelve.” Tony said and that was all he said about that particular incident, dropping back onto the couch and staring out the window.

Loki thought for a long moment, then pulled on the sleeves of his leather jacket, standing up to place it over the straight backed chair. Dressed now in a sleeveless tunic over his pants, he crossed the few steps to kneel in front of Tony, waiting patiently until the brunette finally turned to look at him.

“Twelve.” Loki repeated, and traced several small scars on his bicep, that looked like a–

“I’ll be damned.” Tony commented. “Pumice stone.”

Loki moved his fingers up to another, broader scar, with one end flat, the other curved in a wicked arc.

“Seventeen.” Tony said shortly. “Knife. Tried to burn it off my arm. So you did feel it.”

“Yes, that one was quite painful.” Loki raised his eyebrow. “Painful enough that I thought perhaps my soulmate had perished.”

Tony looked away, but not before Loki caught the small smile of satisfaction at the corner of his lips.

***************************

“Are you still here?” Tony’s tired voice greeted Loki early the next morning. “God, you’re still here.”

Loki turned from the window with a raised eyebrow and hesitant smile. “Good Morrow, Anthony.”

“It’s just Tony, there, Reindeer Games.”

Loki ignored the jibe, watching the other man carefully. “You don’t sleep very much.” He stated more than asked. “In fact, I would think you didn’t sleep at all last night.”

Tony’s expression didn’t even flicker. “It’s weird, you know, to comment on people’s sleeping habits.”

“Forgive me.” Loki held up his hands peacefully. “It is difficult to ignore your struggles with our–”

“With our nothing.” Tony finished, cutting Loki off before he could mention the soul-bond, before he could intimate that they were linked in anyway. “I’ll walk you out, if my politeness needs to extend that far, otherwise the front door is  _that_ way.” He pointed over his shoulder, and started rummaging in the fridge for breakfast food, setting eggs and various vegetables on the counter.

Loki’s lips twitched in a short smile. “You haven’t even asked why I am here, Anthony.”

“Because I don’t care.” Tony switched his stove on, and Loki moved closer, circling around him as he approached. “And it’s just  _Tony_. Not Anthony.”

“You honestly  _don’t_ care.” Loki noted, genuinely astonished. “I tried to destroy your little world, brought an army of aliens to annihilate your little planet and now show up unannounced in your little house, and you have no questions. You just… offer me a beverage and go to bed. Even after discovering it is in fact  _my_ name etched into your skin and that it is my fault that you suffered as a child. You honestly  _don’t_ care.”

“My house isn’t  _little_.” Tony huffed in annoyance, feeling another twinge of surprise that he had a reaction at all. “Never mind. No, I don’t care if you think my house is little. Do I need to feed you before you leave or not?”

“I don’t make it a habit to eat.”

“Really?” Tony kept crackin eggs into a pan. “Because Thor eats as if the world is ending at sundown every night.”

“Yes, well Thor Odinson makes it his life’s mission to enjoy everything he does, whether it’s eating, drinking, fighting, or whoring.” Loki sneered, perhaps still the littlest bit bitter over…everything.

But Tony didn’t seem to notice and only nodded. “I could see that.”

Loki watched silently for several minutes, watched Tony methodically stir eggs and chop vegetables and cook them in a skillet, all without offering conversation, hardly even blinking, his expression perfectly blank.

It was like the man felt  _nothing_ , and it troubled Loki, bothered him enough that his hand went to the Mark over his heart again, rubbing at it absentmindedly.

Tony hissed and nearly dropped his plate, reaching up to scratch at his left bicep.

 _Oh that's… interesting_. Loki thought.

“Something bothering you?” He asked as casually as he could, trying not to sound too terribly condescending, but tempted to be irritating just to garner a reaction from this man that was supposed to be his soulmate.

Tony walked right past him as if he wasn’t there, settling at the table with his plate in front of him and taking a bite before bothering to answer. “Must be the ink of my Mark turning blue again, since you obviously aren’t dead.”

“It changes color.” Loki said slowly, tapping his chin. “Every time? With every death and… resurrection?”

“Yep.”

“And it hurts? Every time?” Loki hands trembled at the wash of sympathy he suddenly felt for the man.

“Every time.” Tony started eating again, and Loki just watched, lost in his own thoughts until Tony grunted and jerked his head towards the counter.

Turning to look, Loki saw a plate, with half an egg and vegetable omelet still steaming on it. “Oh. You… cooked for me.”

“I cooked for  _me_. I just made too much. So don’t let it go to waste.”

Loki couldn’t stop the smile spreading across his lips, and he took the plate gingerly, sitting across from Tony at the small table.

“Thank you, Anthony.”

“Seriously. It’s just Tony.”

************************

“How long have you lived here?” Loki joined Tony on the large wrap around deck later, looking out across the water.

“Couple of years.” Tony answered automatically, but Loki knew he wasn’t really engaged in the conversation.

“And you are happy like this? No technology, no fancy parties and expensive suits. No… people.” He pressed. “I am surprised. I would think someone like you–”

“It works just fine.” Tony interrupted. “Just fine.”

“I heard about the attempt to corral your team.” Loki waved his hand, summoning a chair from across the deck to his side and sitting gracefully. “The Accords, was it?”

“Yep.”

“It cost you several of your friends. Almost your life, is that correct?”

“Yep.”

Loki fell silent again, discouraged by Tony’s short answers.

The billionaire just sat, feet crossed at the ankle, one hand wrapped around a bottle of water, the other idly flipping a screwdriver through his fingers.

“You know, I never actually… died.” Loki tried again. “It is notoriously difficult to kill a god, and I seem harder to end than others. Each time…” he tapped his own arm to indicate where Tony’s Mark sat. “Each time I received an injury that certainly would have ended a mortal, but I simply healed, whether it took a day or a week.”

Tony nodded to indicate he’d heard, but didn’t comment on it at all and they sat in quiet for over an hour.

“Why are you here, Loki?” Tony finally asked, not even turning to look, still speaking to the water.

“I thought you didn’t care.” Loki said with a smirk, and then a frown when Tony didn’t take the bait. “I found myself in a bad situation, found myself badly wounded so instead of trying to run, I transported myself home.”

“So how did you end up here? Not even Nick Fury with his creepy all seeing eye knows where this place is.”

“I told you. I transported myself  _home_.” Loki repeated.

“Is this like a riddle?” A flicker of annoyance in Tony’s voice. “Because I have to say, my level of patience for other worldly bull shit has plummeted drastically since the last time we met.”

“What I am saying, is that when I gathered my  _Seidr_ , my magic, and called for home, instead of landing me in Asgard, though I am hardly welcome there, or even Jotunheim… it brought me to you.”

Tony’s hand tightened so quickly around his water bottle that the entire thing crumpled, but his face remained unchanged. “Your magic thinks that I am…that  _I_  am home?”

“We are soul mates, Anthony.” Loki pointed out. “Is it so much a stretch that my magic recognizes that? That my magic would bring me to you instead of sending me somewhere to be alone?”

“So you have a Mark as well?” Tony motioned to him vaguely. “Your universe thinks that we are soulmates too?”

“We share the same universe, Anthony.”

“Right. So you have a soulmate. And it’s…me.”

“Yes.” Loki said quietly, tilting his head back to try and catch the weak rays of sun, waiting for Tony to speak again.

“How long have you had it?” Tony’s voice hitched just the tiniest bit, and Loki smiled at the hint of emotion, but didn’t turn to look, affording Tony the privacy to feel whatever this was in peace.

“Anthony, I have had your Mark on my skin for over a thousand years.”


	3. Chapter 3

Loki took small bites of his steak even though he had no real urge to eat, unwilling to  _not_ eat something Tony had specifically made for him. **  
**

Tonight was the first night all week that Tony had purposefully cooked enough food for two people, grilling two big steaks and several helpings of vegetables.

“You are an excellent cook.” Loki commented, sipping at his wine.

“Just a steak.” Was all Tony said in reply, and Loki nodded slowly, taking another bite and trying to figure out how to draw the brunette into deeper conversation.

“How long are you planning to stay?”  Tony suddenly asked. “ _Here_ , I mean. How long are you planning to stay  _here_?”

Loki looked up, thinking about his answer before saying, “Considering I had not planned to be here at all, I certainly did not have a departure date in mind. Would you like me to leave? I will, if my presence is bothersome.”

“I’m not used to having company.” Tony said shortly. “Sort of the point of living in the middle of no where.”

“If it isn’t too much trouble,” Loki began carefully, “I am finding myself… relaxed for the first time in a terribly long while. I would be more than happy to contribute to the cost of living if you would allow me to stay, or to provide food or to–”

“I’m a billionaire.” Tony interrupted, “and just keep getting richer, since I’ve stopped spending money on expensive weapons for the team and three thousand dollar suits for charity events. The cost of living here doesn’t even register in my bank account. I don’t need you to contribute anything.”

“I suppose that is fair.” Loki went back to eating, not sure how to take Tony’s outburst. Really it was the most he had said all at once since their first conversation about his Mark, and after days of trying to draw him out, Loki found himself unsure of how to respond.

“Where have you been sleeping?”

“Oh, I don’t sleep.” Loki replied automatically. “Not often, anyway. It is not entirely necessary.”

“You can sleep downstairs with me.” Tony said, around a bite of steak. “Not with me. In one of the extra bedrooms. There’s four, so take your pick. Mine’s the big one at the end of the hall, so not that one.”

“Oh, um, thank you.” Loki was more than pleased by the offer, and wasn’t about to turn it down. “Thank you, Anthony.”

Tony looked up and frowned as if something had just occurred to him. “And I have extra clothes. If you’re tired of wearing leather. Even though, you are a tall bastard so they might not fit. But you could still try them, if you want.”

“Is there something wrong with my clothing?” Loki asked, genuinely confused. He enjoyed his leather, enjoyed the way it fit against his skin and set off his coloring. “It is displeasing to look at, perhaps?”

“No, but you look like you belong in a Renaissance Fair selling mutton.” Tony rolled his eyes. “I don’t mind it at all, but it can’t be as comfortable as just jeans, right? The leather is… nice, but–”

Loki smiled slowly, his eyes lighting. “Do you  _enjoy_ how I look in my leather, Anthony?”

“I said I don’t mind it.” Tony muttered, and left to put his plate in the sink. “Quit trying to act like I said anything else.”

Loki didn’t say anything to that, but when Tony turned back around from the sink, his breath audibly caught, taking in the sight of Loki in dark blue denim and a lighter green t shirt. His dark hair looked raven black against the fabric, and when he looked up again, his eyes were such a deep green that Tony had to clear his throat before he could speak.

“That’s–That’s a neat trick.”

“Yes. Glamour is fairly useful to have.” Loki commented off handedly, and took another sip of wine, eyes crinkled in amusement when Tony’s gaze dropped to run over his body again.

Perhaps he should feel badly, trying to tease Tony, when all Loki had ever caused him was pain and sadness.

But sitting in his soulmates company for the first time in so many centuries, the hole in Loki’s spirit seemed not to ache as much, and he felt almost warm, even without the protective covering of so much leather and fabric.

And when Tony’s eyes sparked in interest as Loki stood, the demi god couldn’t hide a smile.

Perhaps Tony could still feel things after all.

***********************

***********************

The nightmare might have woken him, but it was the unexpected person in his room that had Tony jerking upright in his bed.

“Cease, Anthony.” Loki’s voice seemed so much deeper in the dark. “There is no need for concern.”

“No need for concern. You’re just… standing in my room in the middle of the night. Because that’s what normal, well adjusted people do.” Tony’s voice was edging on panicked and Loki found himself stepping forward before he could stop, reaching for him.

“Back off.” Tony ordered. “ _Back off_!”

The words were shaky  but  _furious_ , so Loki took several steps back automatically, retreating to the doorway.

“You dream of the battle with the Chitauri.” He said softly, and after a long silence, Tony nodded in the dark.

It was another moment before he said– “The hole in space. When my suit shut down. I almost died. I think I did die. I  _wanted_ to die. But I didn’t. And now I have nightmares about it.”

“It… saddens me that I was the cause of so much grief.” Loki admitted. “I can’t begin to explain why I did the things I did, but I would ask forgiveness for them anyway.”

“Thor did.” Tony said wearily. “He explained it for the most part. The mind control. How you had to detox afterwards. How they stripped you of your magic. It was all very Norse mythology and otherworldly and before New York it would have been unbelievable but after New York– after New York it’s just another day in the life, isn’t it?”

“I see.” Loki didn’t quite understand the reference  _another day in the life,_  but he could almost feel the exhaustion and tension radiating from Tony, and that was enough.

Tony lay back down, closing his eyes, knowing Loki was standing there, still watching.

“You knew it was me.” He said into the dark. “You knew who I was when we met in Germany.”

“Yes.”

“And when you threw me out of the window.”

“Again, yes.” Loki didn’t bother denying it. “I knew the entire time.”

“Didn’t stop you though.” Tony noted.

“Did Thor not explain–” Loki started to defend himself, as if it would make things better, as if it would change what he had done.

“No, he did.” Tony cut in. “I just thought that physically hurting your soulmate would register somewhere even in a skewed mind.”

“You took a knife to your own flesh, Anthony, hoping it would hurt me by proxy. And you were of sound mind.” Loki pointed out.

“I did that after you died four or five times. I grieved for you, for my soulmate, five  _separate_ times before giving up and refusing to grieve anymore. Me trying to cut you off my arm is no comparison to what you did.”

“That is fair.” Loki admitted, painfully, quietly. “I will apologize again, Anthony, I–”

“It doesn’t matter now.” Tony interrupted him again. “None of it does. We won the battle, didn’t we? Earth’s mightiest heroes? You left. Everything went back to normal. It doesn’t matter. No harm no foul, right?”

“I suppose.” Loki folded and unfolded his arms, hesitating before saying, “It did hurt me, you know, to hurt you. The part of me being controlled reveled in handing out pain, but the piece that was still me… I knew who you were, and it cut me to my core to put my hands on you in that way. To have the first time we touched to be such a violent moment.

“No harm, no foul.” Tony repeated.

“Except the nightmares.” Loki pointed out, not trying to be malicious but trying to bring some sort of reaction from Tony. “The harm is the nightmares. And the mental toll of the entire experience that led to you obsessively building all those suits. Asgard was watching, you know. Watching the mortal that was trying to be a god. And it all led to the whole debacle with the Accords. Your fight with your precious Captain and his Soldier. Losing that woman you loved.”

“Pepper. Her name is  _Pepper_.” Tony grit his teeth against the flash of anger at Loki’s casual dismissal of someone that had been his whole world. “Do not call her  _that woman_. She was everything to me.”

“Yes of course, my mistake.” Loki apologized quickly, hearing the edge in Tony’s voice, despite the uncomfortable twinge of jealousy over Tony reacting so strongly to this Pepper woman… and not reacting at all to Loki, to his  _soulmate_.

“Does it help the nightmares if you sleep with someone?” Loki wanted to know, realizing the question could be taken the wrong way, and hoping Tony would only see it as—

“I wouldn’t know.” Tony rolled over in the bed so he wasn’t facing Loki anymore. “I have no one to sleep with.”

“If you would like me to stay with you?” Loki took another step into the room, hand held out coaxingly. “I would be happy to–”

“Get out.”

Loki left.


	4. Chapter 4

Together,  _somehow_ , they fell into something of a pattern.

Days spent staring out over the water, or in the garage, Loki watching as Tony rebuilt an old truck, working for hours at a time.

Sometimes they would talk, other times Tony wouldn’t speak all day. Sometimes the conversations were easy, about dinner or the house itself. Other times they were strained, Loki asking questions that Tony didn’t want to answer.

Some days Tony was blank, and some days he was  _angry_ , and then it seemed like perhaps he was starting to have good days and they were something that Loki treasured.

He took it all in stride, watching everything Tony did, memorizing every word, studying his face to catalogue any and every emotion, taking each day as it came and trying hard not to press Tony too far, even as the urge to hold his Soulmate became almost too much to ignore.

Loki only clenched his fists, waded through conversations patiently, and counted the minutes until Tony either kicked him out entirely, or opened enough to let him in.

And then gradually, almost too slowly to notice, Tony was smiling more, nothing like his cocky grins of before, but at least it was  _something_. He answered every time Loki asked him a question, even if it was just one word. And when Loki stood in his bedroom when he woke from a nightmare, Tony stopped telling him to leave, and instead just rolled over to face the wall and fell back asleep, knowing Loki wouldn’t leave until he was sleeping peacefully again.  

Loki counted each of these moment as victories.

The days blended together until one evening a cold wind blew across the lake, and Tony pulled the huge drapes that covered the floor to ceiling windows shut, and started a fire.

Loki waved two of the easy chairs over, flicking his fingers until they sat exactly where he wanted them too, then raised a finely arched brow, waiting for Tony to pick one.

Instead, the stubborn man sat on the floor, propped up against the chair legs, staring into the flames. They had both been drinking for most of the afternoon, and it was starting to show on Tony’s face, the firelight making him look young, unguarded, and adorably rumpled, the blank look he so often wore replaced by a half smile that bordered on peaceful.

In the firelight, Tony looked nothing at all like the man so burdened by his past he could go days without speaking.

“You’ve been here over a month.” Tony finally said, without looking up from the flames, the words made soft and easy from the drink.

“I suppose I have.” Loki agreed, pushing his hair back from his eyes before taking a drink of his own.

“Are you going to stay the winter?”

“Anthony, I would like to stay as long as you can tolerate my company.” Loki answered honestly. “This is a peaceful place, and it has been a very long time since I have felt peaceful.”

“And once I can _’_ t tolerate your company?” Tony asked, ignoring the peaceful comment.

Loki frowned, ignoring the ache his Mark gave off at the idea of leaving. “Then I will leave you, of course.”

“Just like that? Soul mates or not, the minute I get tired of you, you take off?”

“You say that as if it’s not what you wish.” Loki didn’t dare to let any hope into his voice, kept from staring at Tony only through sheer force of will.

“Yeah, well, I have no idea what I  _wish_.” Tony tossed a handful of pine needles into the fire. “Which I suppose is half the problem.”

Loki didn’t know how to address that, and slouched back in the chair, smoothing his hands down the soft cotton pants he wore. It had been Tony’s suggestion to actually order clothes instead of glamouring outfits on and off and Loki was surprised by how much he enjoyed it, the different textures and colors, the well tailored fits of the shirts, the relaxed nature of pajamas.

It was all very human and therefore fairly amusing.

“What do you ‘wish’, Loki?” Tony asked suddenly. “I suppose I get why the universe dumped you in my lap, but why have you stayed so long? Nowhere else to go?”

“I have no other place I want to be.” Loki answered slowly, truthfully. “To co-exist with someone whose soul matches my own… what would even Valhalla have on this moment?”

“That's… heavy.”

“It’s  _honest_.” Loki corrected. “And as you can imagine, I am not honest all that often.”

“Right. The Trickster God?” Tony sounded as if he was smirking. “Silver tongue?”

“All apt names.” Loki admitted. “But I will never lie to you, Anthony. I believe it to be impossible.”

“So. You are perfectly happy to be just here. Sleeping in a guest bedroom of a house on the edge of a lake. In the middle of nowhere. With a mechanic.”

“With you.” Loki corrected, a smile tugging at his lips. “Perhaps it’s not what I thought I would ever have, or ever see, but after centuries of wars and petty games and vengeful gods it is pleasant to just…be. Here. With you.” He looked over at Tony’s profile. “With the one my soul has been waiting for.”

“A thousand years?” Tony asked, the first time in weeks he had brought up their Marks. “That’s how long your soul has been waiting for me? How long you’ve had your Mark.”

“It manifested shortly after my fifteenth birthday.” Loki rubbed his chest. “It burned like an iron searing my skin. A phrase that made no sense, and even the seers couldn’t tell me what it meant, or when I would learn. So I waited. Decades.  _Centuries_. I grew bored of waiting to find you, so I dabbled and tricked and played pranks. Perfected my magic when pranks bored me. Spent years in a different form when regular magic became dull. Lived as a woman for quite some time. It was enlightening on a good day and enough to make me insane on a bad one. Women are honestly the strongest creatures, I do not think I could conform to that gender for a lifetime.”

Tony laughed quietly, but Loki heard it and something in his chest loosened. “I believe that’s the first time I’ve heard you actually laugh, Anthony.”

“I think it’s the first time I’ve laughed in… years.” Tony emptied his glass, let his head loll back against the chair. “Literally years.”

“I’m glad it was with me then.” When Tony finally turned to look at him, Loki was smiling, pleased, and Tony couldn’t help but smile back.

“So a woman?” He asked, settling back further against the chair, shifting against the hard floor uncomfortably..

“Oh. Oh  _yes_.” Loki smiled at the memory. “It was quite fun for the most part. Until I caught the eye of one of Thor’s friends, who thought it would be great fun to drug and capture me and deliver me to the God of Thunder. I barely reversed the spell in time, and Thor was so angry…” laughter burst from his chest. “Oh Thor was  _so_ angry when he entered his bedchamber to find the maiden he was set to woo was actually his younger brother. I thought he would beat me half to death that night but after we tussled a bit he began laughing about it, and so did I. Not my worst memory.”

“You miss him.” Tony stated, raising his eyebrow curiously.

Loki nodded, his smile slipping. “He was my brother for so long. To not be family anymore… even a Trickster has a heart to be broken. I regret–” Loki blew out a deep breath. “Some days I regret even knowing of my heritage. Other days I wish I had known the entire time. To be lied to for so long and to have loved ones expect you to just accept the truth without anger–”

“I understand that better than you think.” Tony shifted again. “But Thor misses you. Used to talk about you all the time.”

“He is a good man, for an oversized golden buffoon.” Loki glanced down curiously. “Anthony, if you are so uncomfortable on the floor, sit on the chair.”

“I like the floor.” Tony argued, and shifted positions yet again.

Loki rolled his eyes at the mortals stubbornness, snapped his fingers, and a pillow burst into existence under Tony, whose mouth dropped open.

“That was…neat. Materializing a pillow? With just your fingers?”

“Oh Anthony.” Loki’s smile was entirely predatory and Tony actually gulped, color risin in his face. “You should see what I can do with  _just_ my fingers.”

Desperate to change the subject, but unable to speak without stuttering, Tony took several deep breaths before asking, “Is that what your Mark says? Anthony?”

“No. That is not what is says at all.” Loki conjured up another pillow and mirrored Tony’s position on the floor, bringing them eye level and only a few feet apart.

“Why do you call me that then?” Tony frowned. “No one but grandmama called me Anthony. Why don’t you call me Tony?”

“Because Tony is the name of a little boy who never quite grew up.” Loki waved his hand at the fire, stoking it even higher. “But Anthony is the name of a Prince, of a King. So that is what I call you.”

“I can’t argue with that.” Tony said with a small smile, and fell silent again. Loki just waited, knowing the conversation wasn’t over yet.

“Can I see it?”

“My Mark?”

“Yeah.” Tony glanced at him uncertainly. “Or is it like… something we aren’t supposed to show people? I guess I don’t know the right etiquette. And I never cared enough to know, so I’m not really sure–”

“Of course you can see it. It belongs to you, after all, doesn’t it?” Loki started to magic his shirt away, but chose instead to sit up on his knees, pulling the grey shirt up and over his shoulders, hiding his smile in the material when he heard Tony’s breath hitch.

Once the shirt was tossed away, Tony edged closer to peer at the deep blue writing on the left side of Loki’s chest, just over his heart.

“What does it say?” Tony asked, so close that Loki could feel every exhale against his skin.

“It says,” Loki steadied his breathing. “It says ‘he whose spirit is lit from within’.”

“He who is— what? Spirit  _what_ now?” Tony frowned. “How is that…me?”

“He who is lit from within. I used to think it meant someone who was spiritually enlightened, because Asgardians place so much value on learning and the pursuit of knowledge.”  Loki touched the words reverently, tracing the letters that had been on his body for nearly a millennium.

“But after I learned of my true heritage, I thought it meant someone who glowed. Several species have skin that gives off light. Even in my Jotun form, my skin reflects light, but not enough to be considered a glow. So thinking to find my mate in another realm, I traveled. And then I met you in Germany.”

“In my suit.” Tony said, his voice shocked. “I was in my  _suit_.”

“Yes, exactly.” Loki couldn’t stop his smile, or the way his eyes lit up. “Yes, your suit. And then we sat in that ship that flies, where you put me in that cage. And I saw…” Loki shook his head, grinning. “You  _glowed_. Your heart was lit from within your chest. And then I absolutely knew. You were mine.”

“But I don’t anymore.” Tony pulled away with a frown. “I don’t have the arc reactor, so I’m not lit from within, or whatever.” The idea of no longer being Loki’s soulmate was suddenly enough to make his chest hurt, and his arm started stinging.

“That doesn’t matter.” Loki smiled, expression gentle, rubbing at his Mark as it lit up with Tony’s sudden sadness. “I knew right away when I saw you that  _finally_ , I had met my soulmate. Whether you physically are lit up by that… thing… doesn’t matter anymore. Anthony, you glowed just long enough for me to find you. And even without it, I can see the light of your spirit, your beautiful,  _unbreakable_ spirit, calling out to me.”

He couldn’t stop himself from reaching out, running long fingers through the soft goatee, tracing the strong jaw line, pressing lightly against Tony’s lips. “And now that I’ve found you, Anthony, I cannot seem to make myself let you go.”

He was a scant inch  away from Tony’s mouth, a breath away from his soulmates lips when Tony jerked away, jumping to his feet.

“I’m going to bed.” He said abruptly. “I–I– I am going to bed. Good night.”

Loki scrambled to his feet as well. “Forgive me, I overstepped. I shouldn’t have presumed you were ready for—”

“No, you shouldn’t have.” Tony nearly ran from the room, and Loki cursed vehemently into the air, extinguishing the fire with a quickly clenched fist, and dropping back into his chair in frustration.

******************************

“My door was locked, Loki.” Tony said wearily, scrubbing a hand over his face, and staring up at his ceiling. “It was  _locked_.”

“Anthony, surely you don’t think a locked door will stop me if I want to be here.” Loki stayed against the door of Tony’s bedroom, trying not to intrude any more than he already had. “Your nightmares. They aren’t as difficult if I am here. We both know this. Regardless of what transpired earlier, I would not leave you to suffer your nightmares alone.”

“I am sure I will survive.”

“It bothers you.” Loki said quietly, almost fearfully. “That I am your soulmate? A trickster god that tried to destroy your world.”

“You know, you think it would, but it doesn’t.” Tony laughed bitterly. “Maybe I just don’t care enough anymore to worry about that sort of thing.”

“Then, it bothers you because… I am a man. That is why you pulled away from me. I am aware that you generally prefer women. That you were happy with– with Pepper?”

“No. that doesn’t bother me at all. I have known my soul mate was a man for years now.”

“I don’t understand, then.” Loki spread his hands in a pleading gesture. “I overstepped my bounds, and I can apologize for that but is that all that is the matter or is there something–”

“I don’t want you here anymore.”

“Do you mean that?” Loki, and his voice cracked. “Anthony, you honestly wish for me to not be here any longer?”

“Do I sound like I’m joking?”

“No, I suppose you don’t.” Loki swallowed back the urge to plead with Tony. “Then…I will leave you in peace.”

Loki was gone just like that, poofed out of the room, or whatever it was he did to disappear and Tony collapsed back on his bed, needing more sleep, but knowing it wouldn’t come.

Not without Loki standing guard.


	5. Chapter 5

Tony swore as he dropped his wrench for one billionth time, suddenly missing all his robots and his high tech lab. Even Dum-E. Maybe  _especially_ Dum-E. **  
**

This last two weeks had been… rough.

Loki had disappeared. Just poofed out of Tony’s bedroom, his house, his whole goddamn life.

And Tony hadn’t realized how much better his nightmares had been until Loki wasn’t here to keep them at bay. Hadn’t realized how big and empty the house was until Loki wasn’t there to keep him company.  _Certainly_ hadn’t realized that his Mark had basically stopped bothering him, until Loki’s soothing presence wasn’t around, and the pain came screaming back.

In fact it hurt so bad, most days Tony did little else then sit and stare into the fire with an ice pack on his arm and a whiskey in his hand.

Idly, he wondered if it hurt so much because after a month of living with his soulmate–ugh the word left a bitter taste in his mouth– maybe their emotions were synced or something.

_Goddamn Demi god. Fucking ruining my life. Where the hell are you?_

“Anthony.”

“God  _dammit_!” Tony jumped in surprise, dropping his glass and flinching at the resulting shatter. “Where did you– what are you–” he put a hand to his suddenly pounding head. “Do you know many glasses of alcohol I’ve broken because of you? What the hell are you doing?”

“You called for me.” Loki said by way of explanation. “So here I am. Is your head alright?”

“No. It’s not. And you know, I’m not sure if it’s because I’m still hungover, or haven’t eaten in a few days, or maybe it’s just because you  _piss me off_  enough to bring on an instant migraine.”

“You’re angry.” Loki looked pleased, and that just made Tony angrier.

“Why are you smiling like it’s a good thing?”

“Because we spent a month together, and I only heard you laugh once. But a minute back in each other’s presence and you are showing more emotion than I have seen in…weeks.”

“I-I—” Tony stopped talking, looking away in frustration.

Loki was right. He didn’t know when he’d started  _feeling_ things again, but he definitely was. Even if all it was, was anger and frustration, and he supposed it was nice to have the grey lift a little.

“I didn’t call you.” he said, instead of addressing  _whatever_ it was he was feeling, and stubbornly refusing to acknowledge that he was happy to see Loki again.

Loki frowned. “But you did, just now. You asked where I was. Here I am.”

“I didn’t say that out loud though.” Tony maintained. “So why are you here?”

“You might not have said it out loud.” Loki conceded. “But isn’t prayer mostly silent anyway?”

Tony bit back a scathing retort that he most certainly was  _not_ praying, and opted to clean up his mess instead, turning his back on Loki.

“I have… missed you, Anthony.” Loki’s voice was so low, so soft, Tony almost didn’t hear it as he scraped up the crystal shards.

“Oh yeah? So why’d you leave then?”

“You told me you didn’t want me here anymore.”

“Yeah well,” Tony took a deep breath to rein in his emotions. “I meant like, in my room hovering over my bed, invading privacy.”

“I have never hovered over your bed Anthony, even I know that to be–”

“ _You know what I’m trying to say_!!” Tony yelled, then clenched his fist in an attempt to calm down, turning his back again to keep cleaning up.

“I suppose I do.” Loki reached out a hand to him, almost begging. “But, Anthony, don’t turn your back on me, show me your anger. Show me something more than blank looks and a perfectly controlled voice. Show me anything, show me  _you_. Please.” 

“Have you been hurting like I have been?” Tony bit out. “Your Mark. Does it hurt?”

Loki nodded quickly. “Yes. My chest. It hurts every day. Worse than it ever did before I found you. It drives me to distraction.”

“I can’t even function. Can’t even work on my truck. Do you know that? Having you as a soulmate has never done anything  but hurt me. How’s that for a raw deal. Got a damn  _deity_ for my other half and all it does is hurt me.” Tony dumped the pile of shattered glass in the trash, tossed the rag towards the laundry room, and didn’t even blink when Loki floated it clear over to the laundry basket.

“What did I do, to deserve this?” Tony wiped his hands on his pants in frustration. “You know from the time I was four and you died, or didn’t die, for the first time, all I’ve known is  _pain_ because of you. You kept dying. You tossed me out of a window. Your fucking  _army_ still gives me nightmares. I started obsessing over keeping the world safe and ended up creating Ultron. All that did was lead to the Accords, which ended up costing me everything. Everything. I’m  _cursed_ because of you!”

“And the real bitch of it is,” Tony laughed brokenly. “The real bitch of it, is that every time I try to be angry at you, all I really want to do is put your ass back at the table and feed you because I think the calmest I’ve ever been is when we eat dinner together. Explain  _that_ to me.” He demanded. “And then… then what? You ruin it, you freak me out by trying to–”

“Kiss you.” Loki swallowed uncomfortably. “Anthony, I–”

“Yeah that. So when I tell you to get out of my room you just vanish. You’re just gone. Leaving me here.” The anger bled from Tony’s voice, leaving it hoarse and empty. “Leaving me here alone. And I was just… alone. All over again. You’re supposed to be my soulmate and you just– you just left me. Just like everyone else did. I pushed you away, and instead of fighting to keep me, you just  _left_. And I was alone. All over again. Just like I always am.”

Loki listened to every word, rubbing his Mark as it burned painfully when Tony’s emotions ran wild.

“Anthony.” He hesitated, glancing down at his clothing, and waving his hand over them, changing his glamour from his leathers and robe into jeans and a shirt, adding a checkered apron over it with a cautious, teasing, smile. “Could I- could I make you dinner, then? We can eat together. And maybe, we both will stop hurting. And perhaps neither one of us will be alone.”

Tony just stared at him.

“Please?” Loki asked.

And Tony just stared.

***********************

“If your door is locked tonight,” Loki said softly when Tony headed downstairs after a silent dinner. “I won’t open it. You have my word.”

Tony didn’t lock his door, but he didn’t sleep either, lying on his bed staring up at the ceiling for hours.

Loki hadn’t asked if he could stay at the house again, and Tony hadn’t brought it up. He had just eaten the chicken and pasta Loki had made, finished his water, and went to bed.

An hour or so later he had heard Loki’s light tread on the steps, and the click as his door closed for the night.

The clock turned over to 2 am before Tony moved, leaving his room and making his way down the hallway to where Loki slept. He didn’t bother knocking, knowing Loki had probably heard him leave his bed. Super hearing might not be on the Wikipedia page of Loki’s abilities, but Tony wouldn’t put it past him.

“Anthony.” Loki actually  _did_ sound surprised to see him, and sat up in his bed. “What is it? Are you alright?”

“Oh, so you don’t have super hearing?”

“Sorry, what was that?”

“Never mind.” Tony ran his fingers through his hair anxiously. “Can I–Can I sleep in here with you?”

Loki didn’t answer, just scooted over to make room, pushing the blankets down and waiting.

Tony climbed in the big bed, moving as close to Loki as he dared, which really wasn’t all that close, and closed his eyes to try and sleep.

“Might I hold you?” Loki whispered, and Tony turned away from him, but moved even closer, until Loki could lay right behind him, maneuvering one arm under the pillow under Tony’s head, the other around his waist.

“It’s not because you’re a god. Or a man, or anything like that. That’s not why I freaked out.” Tony said into the dark, and Loki shifted behind him, the hand on his waist stroking soothing circles.

“If you want to tell me, I will listen. If you do not want to tell me, I will not push you for an answer.” Loki whispered.  

“It’s because you’ve already died.” Tony said quickly, rushing the words as if he was afraid that he would lose his nerve and not say them at all. “So many times you died and I spent my whole life waiting for you to die again, waiting for all that pain again. And then when you- when you–”

“When I tried to kiss you.” Loki prompted.

“It started hurting again. And I panicked.” Tony picked at the sheets on the bed nervously. “I panicked.”

“You Mark hurt like when I died?” Loki sounded horrified and Tony patted at his hand reassuringly, not even realizing he had made the motion until Loki linked their fingers together.

“No, It didn’t hurt I suppose. It was softer. Like a- a- pull or something. But it scared me anyway.”

“That’s understandable.” Loki whispered. “I cannot blame you for that.”

Tony slid back against him all the way, their bodies lining up, and Loki gave a sigh that was half a groan, dropping a kiss onto Tony’s hair, and tightening his arms around his soul mate.

That night, neither of them had nightmares.

***********************

The sun was already up when Tony woke, feeling truly rested for the first time in weeks, maybe months, maybe even years. 

He was sitting up and stretching before he remembered where he was, and looked down at the man next to him.

Loki was lying on his back, arms behind his head, just watching, his eyes a breath-taking green in the sunlight.

Tony swallowed hard, his gaze tracking over delicate features, high cheekbones and pink lips that curved into a smile under his scrutiny. Tony couldn’t tear his eyes away from that clear pale skin, spreading out across a lean but muscled chest, marred only by the dark blue writing across Loki’s heart.

He reached out and touched, tracing his fingers over the raised script, and Loki sighed, his eyes fluttering closed.

“It’s getting harder to ignore, isn’t it?’ Loki asked softly, his voice still rough from sleep.

“What’s that?” Tony replied, still lost in tracing the letters.

“The pull between us. It didn’t seem so strong before, but after being separated, I think it’s getting worse. It’s getting more difficult not to want to be with each other, to not want to touch each other.”

“Sorry.” Tony moved away, but Loki caught his hand, lacing their fingers together and pressing them back over his heart.

“No, Anthony. Don’t ever be sorry. Please touch me as often as you want.”

**************************************

“Could I see yours? Your Mark?” Loki asked much later in the day, as Tony made them sandwiches.

“I don’t know if I’m ready for that.” Tony didn’t even hesitate to answer, no where near ready to share such an intimate, painful part of himself with anyone, not even Loki.

_Not yet._

“Alright, then.” Loki said quietly, and bit into his lunch.

Then Tony moved around the table until he sat right next to Loki, slouching and spreading his legs until their knees bumped.

Loki shifted without saying anything, scooting closer until their thighs were rubbing as well, and Tony sighed with something that seemed an awful lot like relief, and pressed even closer.

Loki only smiled, pressed at his Mark lightly, and kept eating, content to sit next to his soulmate and share a meal.

************************

The fourth night after Loki returned, Tony turned to him over their dinner and said matter of factly “I like my bed better than yours.”

“Is that so?” Loki took a long drink from his glass, waiting for Tony to finish his thought. He was learning that just because the genius paused between sentences didn’t mean he was finished speaking.

“So maybe, you could just start the night off sleeping in my bed. That way I don’t have to come looking for you, and you don’t do that creepy thing where you stand in my room and watch me sleep when I get nightmares.”

“You have not come to my bed in three nights.” Loki pointed out. “I assumed the bed sharing was a one time occurrence.”

“But that’s only because I like my bed better.” Tony retorted, then his voice softened. “Do you understand what–what I’m saying here? Am I um, making my point?”

Loki smiled, slow and easy, making a blush rise in Tony’s cheeks. “Could I kiss you, Anthony?”

Tony just nodded, and Loki leaned over, bringing their mouths together in a short, but firm kiss.

“Truth be told, I prefer your bed as well.” he murmured when their lips parted, and Tony turned away to hide his grin.

The nightmares went away completely then. They didn’t stand a chance when Loki kept Tony tight to his chest, arms wrapped around him all night.


	6. Chapter 6

“Should we do something for Christmas?” Tony asked one day out of the blue, and Loki looked up from his book in surprise from where he sat at Tony’s feet, leaning against the couch. “We missed Thanksgiving entirely. Apparently it was last Thursday. So Christmas?” **  
**

“I have never been much of a fan of Yuletide Season.” Loki admitted. “Thor has a much better appreciation for the season than I.”

Tony frowned at him in disbelief. “Who doesn’t love Christmas?”

“Boys who are always in trouble for playing pranks.” Loki pointed to himself with a grin. “I dare say it’s been six or seven centuries since I’ve earned anything but coal.”

Tony laughed then, actually  _laughed_ , his head falling back against the back of the couch, and the sound was so beautiful that Loki’s throat tightened.

“Can I kiss you, Anthony?” Loki asked breathlessly, and Tony lifted his head, looking down at him with his eyebrows raised.

“We are sleeping together you know.” he said with a smirk. “You don’t have to ask permission every time you want to kiss me.”

“I just don’t want to overstep my bounds.” Loki set his book down, marking his page, and turned so he was kneeling between Tony’s legs, his hands brushing his thighs. “Because we are, after all,  _sleeping_ together. And I don’t want you to feel rushed.”

“Just kiss me.” Tony insisted. “It’s fine.”

Loki wove both hands into Tony’s dark hair, bringing him forward and sealing their lips together, his tongue teasing the seam of Tony’s mouth. 

Tony opened beneath him on a short gasp, and Loki’s tongue swept in, swallowing the soft moan, desperate to taste every corner, every bit of his soulmate that he could after being denied for so long.

When Tony leaned back on the couch, Loki followed him eagerly, turning him gently so he lay long ways, fitting their bodies together from chest to legs, murmuring approvingly when Tony’s legs parted to make more room for Loki to settle closer against him.

Loki only broke the kiss to lick and nibble his way down Tony’s neck, until he came to the smooth juncture between neck and shoulder, feeling where Tony’s pulse was thundering out of control. A brief kiss, a whispered word of warning and he bit down hard, making Tony buck beneath him, arching his back and grabbing at Loki’s shoulders, calling the demi gods name in a tone that made Loki  _ache_.

“Anthony.” Loki’s voice dropped into a rumble. “Anthony, you are  _gorgeous_.”

“This isn’t going to get you out of decorating for Christmas.” Tony managed to snark, trying to bring the moment back to something he could handle. “I still expect your  _bah humbug_  to turn into tinsel at some point.”

Loki grinned down at him, well aware that Tony needed to slow down, but so happy to even be this close, looking so completely smitten that Tony couldn’t help lifting his lips for another kiss.

“You will have all you wish on Christmas.” Loki promised, his voice low with an unspoken promise. “Whether it’s tinsel…or anything else.”

Tony tried hard not to let on how much he was affected by Loki’s words, but he knew by the heat in Loki’s eyes that the demi god hadn’t missed the flex of his hips, or the way Tony’s body had hardened beneath him.

What a Christmas season this would be.

************************

Loki was more than happy to reach for Tony, to draw him into a kiss, to take his hand, to hold him at night. He was more than happy to be the one initiating between them, so pleased to simply be touching his soulmate that he didn’t let it bother him that Tony never initiated, that Tony never held out his hand first, that he never asked for a hug.

But then one day Tony  _did_ initiate something between them, shortly after the Christmas discussion and it was  _wonderful_.

Coming up from his bedroom after a shower, Tony stopped in the doorway to the kitchen and caught Loki trying on different aprons as he cooked dinner. Or rather,  _glamouring_ aprons on and off, a fierce frown on his face as he stared down at the various patterns in frustration.

First a red checkered one, then a dark blue. A white one with different kitchen instruments on it. A green one with sprigs of holly and Christmas bows. Loki thought about that one for a while before snapping his fingers and switching to one that proudly proclaimed “kiss the cook”.

And Tony did exactly that, crossing the kitchen and standing up on his toes to plant a solid kiss on Loki’s surprised mouth.

“That was unexpected!” He exclaimed. “What did I do to deserve a kiss?”

Tony shrugged. “Just following orders.” he said, pointing down at the apron and the joy in Loki’s smile made his heart stutter and his Mark burn.

Another time Tony was blindly reaching for a wrench while under his truck, and Loki materialized under the truck with him, holding the exact tool he needed right at the moment he needed it.

“Oh. Thank you. What are you doing down here?” Tony asked, scrunching his nose in confusion as Loki swiped a long finger through a bit of grease and dabbed it on his own forehead.

“Being a mechanic with you, what else?” was all the demi-god said as explanation, and Tony grabbed his jaw and pressed a gentle, if not awkwardly angled kiss on his lips.

Those first two times led to lots of other little moments between them where Tony was brave enough to reach for Loki.

Sometimes it was when Loki was just being sweet, or when he was extra funny trying to coax a laugh from Tony. Other times it was after dinner, when Loki cleaned his plate and declared this meal to be  _the_ best he had ever eaten. Or when Loki did hilariously human things, like sneezing and then looking completely disgruntled at the lack of gracefulness a sneeze brought around.

There was one very memorable time Loki ended up levitating off the bed as he slept, and when Tony shrieked upon finding Loki hovering over his face, Loki woke up, released his magic, and dropped like a ton of bricks onto the bed.

The solid wood bed frame snapped into splinters beneath him and Tony opened his mouth to scream in anger, but Loki waved it off with an airy. “Don’t worry, Anthony, I don’t use all my strength all the time. When it comes time for us to be together, I won’t break you or the bed.”

Realize what he said, Loki stammered to a stop, turning an awful shade of red,and Tony laughed until he couldn’t  breathe, then dragged the man over for a long embrace, crushing their lips together and running his hands eagerly over Loki’s body as they rolled in the destroyed bed.

Every one of those moments were wonderful, all those times that Tony reached for him, but Loki had a favorite, a specific memory that lasted him years, a moment so beautiful it brought him nearly to tears every time he thought of it.

*************************************

It was Christmas Eve, or at least it was Christmas Eve according to Tony. Loki didn’t particularly care to keep track of days since he had lived through so many of them, so he was content to go with Tony’s schedule.

 _Whichever_ day Tony claimed it was, they had gone tramping through the snow to find a tree, and strung popcorn around the scrubby thing. Loki had crushed several of Tony’s glasses, much to his darling genuis’ annoyance, pulling on his  _Seidr_ to transform them into delicately formed crystals to hang on the branches.

Tony was much less annoyed once he saw how beautiful the tree was. And then even  _less_ annoyed once he was sitting and drinking warm cider, watching with a grin as Loki moved his arms, palms out, fingers waving as he wrapped lights all over the tree, winding them through the branches delicately, and with a snap of his fingers, a pulse of his magic, they clicked on.

“Happy Hanukkah!” Tony cheered, and when Loki sent him a quizzical look, Tony held up his cider apologetically. “This stopped being cider and started being just whiskey about an hour ago.”

“Anthony.” Loki bent over and brushed a light kiss to his lips. “If you are so imbibed with holiday cheer, would you play the piano for me? I’ve never heard you play and it’s such a beautiful instrument.”

“I used to play every night.” Tony said, draining his glass and staring at the piano thoughtfully. “Purge my demons and all that. I suppose with you around I don’t need the therapy quite so much. I didn’t realize I had stopped playing.”

Loki smiled, pleased anytime Tony acknowledged the strength of their soul mate bond, whether they were completely together or not. “Then play for me because you are happy, then?” he suggested, then wet his lips anxiously. “You are…happy, aren’t you? With me?”

Tony just smiled and didn’t answer, moving to the piano and lifting the lid, running his fingers over the ivory keys.

It was beautifully in tune, even with him not touching it for months now and Tony relished the feel of the ivory beneath his fingers. Loki leaned against the body of the grand piano, folding his arms and closing his eyes as Tony began to play, first in long scales and arpeggios, up and down the keys, then in snippets of melodies, some Loki recognized, some he didn’t.

Loki slouched a little, relaxing into the music, his body pliant and swaying the slightest bit and Tony watched him, smiling at the sight.

Loki was  _gorgeous_ – all those lean muscles wrapped in silk shirts and perfectly tailored pants. The shocking dark hair against pale skin, the emerald eyes. Some days it hurt not to touch him. Some days it was all Tony could do not lock them in the bedroom together until Loki’s iron self control broke and he took it further than kissing between them. And moments like this when Loki was so human, so  _real_ , it was all Tony could do not to blurt out that he loved him.  _Already_.

It nearly hurt to keep it inside now, to not tell Loki how he felt, especially when the god made no attempt to hide his own feelings. Loki was more than happy to whisper sweet things, to croon quiet words into Tony’s ear, but Tony wasn’t exactly used to sharing his vulnerable sides, and he didn’t know how to word it, how to tell Loki that he wanted him, that he was ready to be soulmates.

But music somehow transcended words, so after several minutes of warm ups, Tony sighed, plinked out a few bars, and then began playing in earnest, fingers moving with the notes as the song that had never left his mind played into the night air.

He didn’t have any words to go with the song, so he hummed along to it, a melody so known to him he let his eyes drift shut, let his body move with the music for several long minutes. It wasn’t a necessarily beautiful song, but it was beautiful to him.

And he hoped that the music would speak to Loki like it spoke to him, hoped that Loki would hear all the feelings and all the words that he couldn’t quite say.

He hoped that Loki would  _understand_.

So he played, the notes coming smoother as the song repeated, the melody slowing as Tony lost himself in the music, wanting to smile over the song for the first time in years, happy to be playing for his soulmate, happy to be playing it one damn time when his heart wasn’t breaking.

But then a soft sob broke his concentration, and Tony looked up, pulling his hands from the piano immediately when he saw Loki crying.

“Hey. Oh god.What did I do? Loki, I–” Tony was scrambling, trying to figure out what had Loki in tears. “Is the song that bad? I’m sorry. I’ll stop. What the hell is happening?”

Loki put a hand up to keep him silent, the other covering his face as he cried.

“No, tell me, please. What did I do? What did I do? Do you hate the song that much?” Tony ran his fingers through his hair. “I mean, is it.. Is it awful? I don’t understand why you–”

Loki took in a deep breath, his shoulders shaking with the effort of quieting himself.  “Where did you learn that, Anthony? Where did you learn that song?

“I didn’t learn it, I  _wrote_ it.” Tony said with a frown. “When I was like, nine. It ran through my head for weeks, so i just sat down and played it one day.”

“Anthony.” Loki folded his arms over his chest and took another deep breath. “That is my song.”

“No,  _I_  wrote it.” Tony argued, and Loki wanted to kiss the rebellious look off his face.“It’s not  _your_ song, it’s  _mine_.”

“My stubborn mechanic.” Loki smiled fondly. “I do not know exactly how time works between our worlds, but about the time you would have been eight or nine, I was imprisoned on Asgard for… for whichever reason.”

“Whichever reason?” Tony repeated, raising an eyebrow.

“ _Whichever_ reason.” Loki said again with a little smirk. “And every day during that time….every single day, my lovely mother Frigga came to my cell. And she would brush my hair, and sit on the floor with me, and sing–” Loki’s voice caught, and the smile from early disappeared as he seemed to crumple further into himself.

“Every day she would sing me that lullaby. That  _exact_ song. It’s the same one she had sang every night when I was just tiny, and had nightmares of giants and debilitating cold and war. Things children shouldn’t dream about. She would creep into my room, and chase my demons away back then. And she did the same every day that I was imprisoned, it could have been months, years, decades— time is meaningless when you are in prison— she came to sing to me and to chase my demons away.”

“And she told me one day,” Loki let out a slow breath, watching Tony carefully, “that when all this was over, I would find my spirit light. She told me that one day I would hold my soulmate and sing them to sleep with  _this_ lullaby. Because in all honesty,  it’s less of a lullaby and more of a love song. And less of a love song and more of a promise. A promise for me and a promise for  _you_ , Anthony. My soulmate.”

Tony couldn’t stop himself from reaching out, overwhelmed by the emotion in Loki’s voice, and Loki took it gratefully, bringing Tony’s fingers to his lips.

“Anthony, every night since my  _Seidr_ brought me to your home, I have wanted to hold you, and sing you to sleep. I have just been waiting for the right moment to tell you about my song. Waiting and hoping that you would understand what the music means to us, to our bond.”

“Because it’s a love song.” Tony whispered. “And a promise.”

“And not one to be spoken lightly.” Loki agreed with a small smile, still holding Tony’s hand to his cheek. “I have been waiting for what feels like forever, and here I find out that you have been playing my song for years. It is… extraordinary. The only one I can share the music with, has known the song forever.  _Extraordinary_.”

“I heard it, you know.” Tony said, moving until he could rest his head on Loki’s chest. “Right before you tossed me out the window in New York. And again, right before Thor took you away. I heard the song like someone was playing it right in my ear. Couldn’t figure out why.”

“My mate,” Loki murmured, the first time he had used the term with Tony. “My mate. You hear music when we are together. I have an actual physical need to touch you constantly. Our souls are meant to exist together, don’t you see? Tell me you see it.”

“I see it.” Tony nodded and curled even closer, sliding the hand on Loki’s cheek around to his neck, slipping his other arm around Loki’s trim waist, holding him tight.

Loki made one of those rough noises that was halfway between a purr and a moan, shifting Tony until their bodies aligned, both hands running up and down his back slowly, pressing until Tony was as close as he could be, their bodies touching at every possible point.

“Anthony.” he whispered. “ _Soulmate_.”

“So.” Tony cleared his throat after several minutes. “So I’m ready for bed.  _Now_.”

“Right…now?” Loki asked, confused, and looked down at the man in his arms. “I don’t understand. Are you uncomfortable with this? Forgive me, I assumed that after we talked, you wanted to–”

“No. Not uncomfortable. And I do want to be held. I’m just..” Tony cleared his throat again. “I’m just ready for bed. So if you are feeling um - _ahem_ \- inclined to sing tonight, you know if you are feeling musical? I’m …tired. And a lullaby sounds… wonderful. I think a lullaby sounds  _wonderful_ , you know?”

“I supposed I am feeling inclined to sing, Anthony.” Loki answered, with one of slow smiles that did wonderful things to Tony’s heart. “Come along then.”

Loki whispered a spell, his magic pulsing and with a quiet rush of wind and a slight thump, they were standing in Tony’s bedroom.

“Can you teach me to do that?” Tony laughed, and Loki kissed him soundly before stepping back to undress. 

Tony cocked his head and watched with undisguised interest, never getting tired of the display. Loki moved like a dancer, whether he meant to or not, and when he slid his pants down his long legs, Tony sat abruptly, a wave of  _want_ swamping him so thoroughly it was suddenly hard to breathe, harder to keep standing when his knees went weak.

“Are you going to disrobe as well?” Loki asked, climbing into the bed in just silk boxers. Tony usually slept in a light long sleeve and pajama pants, but tonight after such an intimate talk maybe he would…

“Yeah, sure. But this better be a hell of a love song I’m about to hear.”

Loki smiled like  _that_ again, and Tony wanted to curse his heart for skipping a beat. He yanked his clothes off hurriedly, and climbed under the covers, trying not to make it so obvious that he was hiding his Mark.

“One day,” Loki murmured, because of course he noticed Tony hiding from him. “One day I want to see it, Anthony. I’ll wait until you are ready, but I hope you will be ready one day  _soon_.”

“I know you want to see it.” Tony said. “And I promise I’ll let you. When I’m ready.”

“Come here then.”

Instead of spooning like they usually did, Loki rolled onto his back and pulled Tony down with him, tucking his head on his shoulder and lacing their fingers together, pressed over the blue script on his heart.

It was the closest to naked together they had ever been, and Tony closed his eyes and melted against the warm body next to him.

“That’s it.” Loki murmured, “My Anthony.”

His free hand stroked idly through the soft spikes of Tony’s hair, and once their breathing slowed and their heartbeats synced, Loki began to sing in the old Norse language, the song his mother had sung so many times, the melody the same one that Tony had played from memory for so many years.

His deep voice filled the air, rumbled in his chest, and Tony listened as long as he could, until his eyes fell closed, and his body sagged in the bed. And still Loki sang, verse after verse, then repeated it, content to sing his soulmate to sleep.

This would be the moment he held onto for so many years after.

This would be the moment Loki treasured for eternity.

The first night he sang his mate their song.

************************

************************

“Merry Christmas!!!” Loki spun Tony around as he came into the kitchen, bending him over backwards to plant a long, messy, kiss on his mouth.

“What the hell–  _Loki_!” Tony wiped his mouth, trying hard to keep an annoyed expression on his face, but was blushing too hard for it to matter. “What is your deal?”

“My deal.” Loki opened his mouth to answer, then closed it with an unsure expression. “My deal is–”

“What’s going on with you today?” Tony clarified. “And you know, for someone who has been on earth for centuries you are terrible at keeping up with the jargon.”

“Being  _around_ humans for centuries is much different than living  _among_ them, Anthony.” Loki replied, amused. “And nothing is going on, can I not be happy to be with you?”

“Is this because of last night?” Tony asked, scraping eggs onto a plate with an amused smile.

“Perhaps.” Loki came up behind him, wrapping his arms around Tony’s waist. “Any night I spend with you in my arms is one worth celebrating, Anthony.”

“Good Christ.” Tony rolled his eyes, but didn’t move away. “You are becoming quite the poet.”

“I would write you sonnets.” Loki promised, pressing closer, pushing Tony into the counters. “ _Ballads_ , if that’s what you wanted. Epic poems, if you required. Tell me, my love, and I will make it so.”

“What is this?” Tony laughed and pushed back against the taller man. “I let you sing to me and all the sudden you are–”

“What am I?” With a burst of strength, Loki turned Tony in his arms, lifting his legs and setting him on a the counter, bringing them to eye level startlingly quickly. “Tell me, Anthony. Now that I have shared my song with you,” Loki brought one of Tony’s hands to his mouth, kissing and licking over the palm before placing it over his heart. “Tell me what I have suddenly become.”

“I-I-um…” Tony was at a loss for words, stunned at the change in Loki’s behavior. “Wow. You are…  _intense_ this morning.”

“It’s Christmas, is it not?” Loki murmured, nuzzling into Tony’s neck. “Do I get to unwrap my present today?” Big hands slid under Tony’s shirt, moving over his back, dropping down to grip his ass, pulling him forward roughly so Loki could rock into the vee of his legs, and Tony could feel how much the god wanted him.

“Wait, Lo—,  this isn’t just like a hook up. You were the one who said we should wait to do this, that we should wait to–”

“Anthony.” Loki’s voice was barely more than a growl in his ear. “I have waited so long to find you. To find the one my mother promised I would one day hold. And here you are.  _Here you are._ ”  

“And last night–” his hands tightened, and Tony couldn’t bite back a moan. “Last night, I finally got to hold you, and sing to you, and feel your heartbeat against my own. My soul mate. My spirit light. I have waited centuries for exactly what we did last night and my heart is so full I can’t–”

Loki took his lips in a searing kiss, and Tony kissed him back just as hard, just as desperately until they were both groaning, panting, moving against each other.

“Tell me now, Anthony.” Loki said hoarsely, “tell me what sign you are waiting for before we can bond. What did you decide had to happen before you accepted your soul mate? When you were young and trying to rid your body of my Mark, what could I have done to make you want it? Tell me.”

Tony leaned away, one hand still pressed to the Mark on Loki’s chest as he tried to put what he needed into words.

“I—I just wanted someone to tell me what it said.” he answered quietly. “I could have scienced away why it seemed like my soulmate died and was resurrected constantly. I could have figured out why I was born with a Mark when nobody else was. I probably could have figured out a way to finally cover it up if I wanted to. But not what it says. I just wanted it translated.”

“My whole life, I just wanted to know what the hell my Mark said. No one could tell me, and I felt cursed with it instead of blessed. I hated that. I just want to know what it says.”

“I can do that, my love.” Loki’s eyes were bright with unshed tears, and he touched their foreheads together. “Let me translate it for you. If you are ready. Are you ready, Anthony, to take this step with me?”

Tony closed his eyes for a long moment while he tried to gather his thoughts.

Loki had been brutally honest when he had returned all those weeks ago, that sex between them wouldn’t just be sex. It would be a physical, emotional, spiritual bond, an irreversible step, sealing their souls together for eternity.

It was why Loki slept mostly clothed, as did Tony. Why they rarely kissed if they were in bed. And why, other than an occasional embrace that turned heated, Loki had refused to do anything other than just kiss.

It would never be just  _sex_ between them, so they had to wait to cross that line.

“I’m ready.” Tony said, opening his eyes and curling his fingers in Loki’s shirt. “I’m ready to–to do this.”

Loki murmured a quiet  _thank you_  and pressed a kiss to Tony’s lips before cradling him close, and summoning his magic, sending them to Tony’s room and onto the bed in a blink.

“Let me see you.” Loki was begging, his eyes wide and hands clasped like a prayer. “Please, darling. Show me. Let me see you.”

Tony sat up and stripped his long sleeve off, tossing it across the room before he lost his nerve.

“Oh look at you.” Loki brushed first his fingers, then his lips across the deep blue writing, worshiping the intricate script with his touch. “You are so lovely, Anthony. So lovely and so wonderfully  _mine_. Only mine. No one would ever see your Mark and think you belonged to anyone but me.”

“What does it say?” Tony’s heart was pounding, and Loki pressed a kiss to his chest as if he could hear it.

“It says–” Loki’s lips curved in a possessive smile, “It says ‘ _he who travels the skies’_.”

“What does that mean?” Tony’s face fell, disappointed that the words hadn’t been some revelation that changed his life. “I still don’t understand.”

“Do not fret my love. It simply means you have been mine for eons.” Loki rolled on top of Tony, settling between his legs with a contented sigh.

“Centuries ago, when I mastered jumping between dimensions and worlds without the use of the Bifrost, or Heimdall’s vision to guide me, the other gods and realms began calling me the Sky Traveler. I could simply wish to be somewhere, and be there within seconds. It’s how I ended here, on Earth the first time. They called me Sky Traveler, and it is a name that has mostly been lost to history now, pushed away in favor of calling me the Trickster.”

“But you—you have had that ancient name for me written on your arm all this time.” Loki marveled at it, pressing his mouth over the beautiful letters. “Written in a language so ancient that even I barely speak any longer. It is…simply  _astonishing_.”

“When I was seven, and you died-” Tony started, and laughed softly when Loki’s head jerked up in concern. “My mother told me that sometimes our soul mates walk this earth, and sometimes our soul mates travel the skies, but it didn’t matter, because they always find a way to be together.”

“Your mother,” Loki kissed him tenderly. “was a prophetess in her own right, I suppose. What a wonderful woman she must have been, to raise a man as strong as you. To know that your soulmate was one not of your earth, that I was roaming the skies searching for you. I wish I could have known her.”

“That’s what you are wishing right now?” the teasing returned to Tony’s voice. “That you could be meeting my mother? Instead of lying in bed with me? Do all god’s have such weird inclinations or…”

“Anthony, my love.” Loki ground down against him, pulling a hard groan from Tony’s chest. “There is no where else on Midgard, or Asgard, or even Valhalla I want to be more than I want to be right here.” he flicked his wrist and they were suddenly naked, Tony yelping a curse when  _all_ of Loki moved against  _all_ of him.

“Being my soulmate hasn’t been easy, and I cannot apologize enough for that, but I will spend every moment from here on out making it up to you.” Loki promised. “Every moment from here until our eternity, do you understand? In whichever way—“ he rolled his body easily and Tony’s eyes rolled back in his head. “—whichever way you prefer.”

“Can I have you?” Tony gasped, tightening his fingers on Loki’s slim hips, “I mean, can I take you– can we do this like– “  the wicked smile across Loki’s mouth nearly did him in. “Loki—“

“Of course you can have me, darling. And then I will have you. Until we are sore and hoarse from screaming and exhausted. And then I will gather my  _Seidr_ , and restore your energy, and then you can have me again.”

“Good god.” Tony groaned when they rolled over, and he had miles of pale perfect skin beneath him.

“Oh, Loki is fine.” Loki murmured, canting his hips and smirking when Tony’s eyes closed in pleasure. “But yes, you may call me God if you wish.”

*********************************

*********************************

“I love you, you know.” Tony blurted, one day when the spring sun was coming through the windows, after they had been together in bed more times than either cared to count, after Loki had sang to him every night and Tony had started smiling and laughing and after they had kissed and kissed and  _kissed_ every day since Christmas.

“I love you.” Tony said again and Loki turned from where he was sketching a print of the slowly thawing lake to send a quizzical look towards his soulmate.

“I don’t know if love matters when our souls are basically doomed to be together?” Tony continued with a waver to his voice. “But for the record? I love you. I do. Just so you know.”

“And I love you, Anthony of Midgard.” Loki reached over and stroked over Tony’s face gently. “But if you use the words ‘souls’ and ‘doomed’ in the same sentence again, I promise that things  _will_ go badly for you.”

Tony just grinned, and went back to dismantling the toaster.

Loki grinned back, and went back to painting.


	7. Chapter 7

So they lived. the mechanic and the demi god, in their big house on the edge of a wild lake, content to be alone as long as they were together. **  
**

Eventually of course, neighbors moved in around them, and then because Tony demanded that Loki be sociable, they hosted poker nights, and barbecues on the big deck on warm summer nights.

They had a standing invitation to dinner on every holiday with the sweet old couple who bought the land next to them, and once it was discovered that Loki could make a sinfully sweet dessert adapted from an Asgardian recipe, it was a staple at every get together.

When the winters got too rough, they left their lake to spend weeks in Arizona, passing the time exploring the desert and sipping cold drinks by the pool of whichever house they had decided to rent that year.

Tony’s money never ran out, and even though Loki would have been content to glamour in and out of stores, snapping his fingers and summoning whatever they needed, Tony always insisted on ordering things and paying for them.

It kept him connected to the real world when he would otherwise be happy to leave it alone, and Loki indulged him of course, going so far as to ask for Tony’s debit card when he made purchases, even though he had memorized the numbers long ago.

It was civil and it was domestic and for the most part, it was good.

Some days were difficult, like when Tony’s chest started hurting and Loki had to use his magic to soothe the ache. The days when Loki missed Asgard so much he could hardly stand it, homesick to the point of nearly wasting away, his magic flickering between his fingers until Tony took him to bed to quiet his anxiety.

Of course the times when all the news anchors were talking the Avengers, about the seemingly miraculous return of the Winter Soldier because they still couldn’t believe it, about how the team was as strong as it had ever been, and about how refreshing it was to have  _real_ heroes back– those were rough days.

The first time they caught a news cast like that, Tony ripped the television off the wall and threw it into the lake.

Loki retrieved it with a roll of his eyes and a stern lecture about littering and not letting his past make him so unhappy. Then he held his soulmate close as Tony cried that night, grieving for what had once been the happiest time of his life, sobbing over all he had lost.

Once the tears dried, Loki magicked away their clothes and set about showing Tony everything he had  _gained_ , and Tony never cried over his old life again.

Eventually he drafted letters to both Pepper and Rhodey, asking their forgiveness for abandoning them, for pushing away their attempts to love him, and letting them know how happy he was now.

Pepper never wrote back, too caught up in her own life as Rescue, and realistically, probably never even got the letter at all. Tony accepted it with a sad smile. She was better off this way, and it had been healing in a personal sort of way just to write to her, so it was alright.

Rhodey wrote back immediately, the first half of his letter thoroughly chewing Tony out for being so dumb as to run off and scare him like that, and if he could get his wheelchair through the  _fucking_ woods, he would show up just to beat Tony’s ass.

The second half of his letter was full of news about his family, not so vague hints that Tony needed to come back and rejoin the world, and the same sort of general shenanigans they had always included in their conversations.

Tony and Rhodey wrote back and forth for years, the pile of letters growing higher and higher, until his injuries took their toll on the former War Machine, and Rhodey couldn’t write back anymore. 

That spring, Tony flew back East for the first time in almost ten years to attend the funeral, standing next to Mama Rhodes and letting his heart break for his oldest friend, the last of his family.

When he came back to the house, he didn’t talk for days, and Loki sat with him on the deck, watching the very visible struggle as his soulmate tried not to let the depression win again.

Tony made it through though, and at night he clung tight to Loki, the only person he had left in the world– the only person he wanted.

**************************

**************************

During a particularly rough winter, a storm blew across the lake and destroyed most of the second floor of their house. Tony headed to the lumber store immediately, ready to tackle their biggest home improvement project yet, but Loki looked at Tony, with his nearly grey hair, and back that was starting to stoop, and suggested they move to something a little less likely to be swept away.

Surprisingly enough, Tony agreed with little fight, putting a  _For Sale_ sign on the front of his property with a resigned little smile, and calling a moving company.

They settled on a ranch cabin in Northern California, because the redwoods reminded Loki of the trees of Asgard, and Tony wanted to fish. Loki learned to drive when Tony’s eye sight started fading, and Tony learned to deal with needing a cane to get around if he spent too much time hiking with Loki the day before.

Loki was content to age alongside Tony, changing his glamour to reflect the passing years– adding glasses, a cane to match Tony’s, switching fitted pants for high waisted ones, and letting his hair silver out.

He was more than happy to grow old with his mate.

Or rather, his  _husband_ , now, wasn’t it?

They had gotten married one spring next to the ocean, as a sixty-fifth birthday present to Tony, who had demanded that Loki finally make an honest man out of him. There was no big ceremony, as they had always been content to stay to themselves, so it was just them, the beach and a priest who kept glaring every time Loki chuckled at the mention of “God.”

“He doesn’t know you’re a god.” Tony scolded, “Stop making fun of him!”

Loki laughed out loud. “And that is  _exactly_ what makes it funny, Anthony.”

When it came time to say their vows Loki promised to always travel home no matter where the cosmos took him, and Tony promised to always shine brightly enough for Loki to find.

It was sappy and romantic, and Loki bent his new husband over and kissed him until the priest coughed and looked away uncomfortably.

Loki planted and tended a huge garden at the cabin, roses bushes and herb plots and rows and rows of anything that had beautiful blooms. His mother, Frigga, had always kept a perfect garden, and he enjoyed working with the earth. No magic required, just knowledge and love and a little bit of luck.

“Anthony, darling?” Loki called one day, brushing the dirt off his hands before seeking out his husband. “Do you want to come out to the garden? My roses just bloomed, come see.”

“Of course I want to see.” Tony looked up from where he was tinkering with the old clock that usually hung on their wall, and took his glasses off. “Just help me up here, yeah?”

Loki helped him up easily, still as strong as he ever was even with the visage of an old man, and helped him outside, kissing Tony when the cheeky genius commented on how Loki’s new glasses made him look like a librarian and  _damn_  Tony had always had a thing for librarians.

“You are incorrigible, my love.” Loki settled Tony on the bench. “A man of your age, nearly seventy and still lusting after librarians.”

“Only  _this_ librarian.” Tony teased, and Loki kissed him again.

They spent every afternoon in the garden in the warm seasons, Loki on his knees in the dirt, Tony with his eyes closed soaking in the sun, a blanket over his lap on the garden swing. Once Loki was done, they would go for their evening walk along the beach holding hands and sharing ice cream and picking up shells as the sun set over the water.

They had waited so long for this sort of happiness, and everything was perfect.

Or at least…perfect for a few years.

But it couldn’t last forever, could it?


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TW: Major Character Death
> 
> (Sorry in Advance!)

Tony’s doctor had bad news.

Too much stress from too many years in the suit had damaged his heart irreparably. Damage to other organs from years of not eating right and the sheer mental and physical toll of pushing himself to the limit in everything he did. Liver damage from the alcoholism. The palladium poisoning that they thought they had eradicated years ago had turned to cancer in his bones.

The Iron Man was falling apart.

The doctor wanted to give them a timeline, but Tony told him not to bother.

Loki just brushed a kiss over his forehead and they left the doctors office in silence, driving home with hands clasped tight, heading out to the garden to sit in the last few warm rays of the day.

It was just one more thing to face together, one more thing in the laundry list of things they had overcome. 

For the first year or so, they didn’t have to think about the finality of this  _one more thing_ , but eventually they did. Because even though life didn’t change all at once, once it started changing, it was all too fast. 

Their idyllic evening walks along the water slowly became Loki pushing Tony’s wheelchair down the boardwalk, switching from the gourmet ice cream to soft serve to Tony could eat it easier, heading back to the house earlier than usual because Tony got too cold too quickly.

He started needing to sleep more and more, and Loki carried him to bed easily, piling on the blankets and napping next to him for hours at a time, holding Tony tight to his chest.

Soon Loki spent less time outside inside and more sitting at the table watching Tony reassembling whatever household appliance had fallen victim to his tinkering. It was less relaxing and more frustrating now, as Tony’s hands developed a tremble until he could hardly use his tools anymore.

Then came the dreadful talks about what to do with Tony’s still considerable assets, and together they chose several charities to receive large amounts of money. Established a scholarship fund to encourage student to pursue college, and then they fought viciously over Tony’s insistence on leaving most of it to Loki.

“I have no need for money, Anthony.” Loki argued. “Once you are gone, there won’t be anything I want on this earth anyway.”

Tony snapped right back, “Well you are going to be around a lot longer than I am regardless, soit can’t possibly hurt to have millions of dollars stashed away for a rainy day fund. You actually have to  _buy_ food, Loki you can’t just teleport it out of stores! Stop being ridiculous!”

Loki left the house, furious, and Tony sat in his wheelchair, staring down at the papers with tears clouding his eyes.

The fights never lasted more than a few hours, with Loki back home in plenty of time to cook for his husband. They they would indulge in their new favorite night time of sharing bath, soaking in the warm water together.,Loki knew it eased some of Tony’s chronic pain, and it let them be close, so close, to each other before it was time to take his husband to bed and lie next to each other all night.

One fall day, as the winds were turning colder, Loki slipped outside to gather the last few blooms of the season, wanting to add a little color to the house. Tony had nearly pushed him out the door, saying he needed a nap and his husband needed some air, teased him and said Loki was starting to look pale and that was never a good look.

So Loki settled Tony on the couch, tucking blankets around his legs to keep him warm, then spent some time in his lovely garden, running the dirt between his fingers and letting himself smile for the first time in days.

Tony fell asleep on the couch, the sun coming in through the window and keeping him warm.

And in the rays of the afternoon sun, he dreamed.

****************************

_She was tall, and blond, entirely beautiful, and entirely unfamiliar._

_“It’s been a long time since my dreams involved women.” Tony said with a smirk, then stopped, surprised when his voice came out the strong tenor of his younger years, not the soft whisper it had become recently._

_“Oh, this is nice!” he looked down at his thirty year old self: strong legs, lean muscles, no disfiguring scars from the arc reactor, and the subsequent years of fighting. “I suppose it’s only fair I would at least be young in my dreams, right?”_

_The woman smiled serenely at him. “Anthony Laufeyson.”_

_“That’s me.” Tony felt the same burst of pride he always did when people said his full name._

_“I would like to tell you a story.” she said softly, and for whatever reason, because dreams don’t have to make sense, Tony nodded, walking across a short path to sit next to her on a porch swing._

_“There is an old Norse legend,” she began. “That tells of two soulmates, searching for each other. They both saw so much pain along the way that they were close to not believing in soulmates anymore, ready to give up on love. But when they finally found each other, their love burned so bright the gods themselves were jealous, and not even death could extinguish their bond. Seeing the strength of their love, the gods reached down and took their spirits from the earth, setting them as the brightest stars in the sky. Then everyone who saw the stars light would know that not even death could separate a true bond, that true love would last forever.”_

_Tony touched the script on his arm, emotion closing his throat,  and the woman smiled again. “Do you believe in soulmates, Anthony?”_

_“Without a doubt.” He replied firmly. “Absolutely. My husband, my soulmate, is the best thing to ever happen to me. I would be nothing without him.”_

_“It is hurting you, knowing you must leave him behind, isn’t it?”_

_Tony looked away, a wave of sadness washing over him. “I would never want to put him through the pain of losing a soulmate.”_

_“But he did it to you.” she pointed out. “Several times, didn’t he?”_

_“That doesn’t matter. I could handle it. I don’t want him to have to.” Tony said stubbornly. “He’s been through too much already, I wouldn’t ever want to put him through losing me.”_

_The beautiful woman reached one hand out to touch his forehead. “You considered yourself cursed, from the day of your birth, didn’t you? An unknown Mark, a soulmate who put you through so much pain. A life ridden with trials, no matter what you tried to do.”_

_Tony nodded, and the woman whispered. “Believe me when I tell you, Anthony Laufeyson, that from this day on you are blessed.”_

_The woman kissed his forehead, and blinked away in a flash of light so pure it hurt his eyes._

_Tony frowned after she was gone, and rubbed the burning kiss on his forehead, wondering at the sudden sweet scent of roses._

****************************

****************************

“Anthony, my love” Loki knelt by the bed, holding Tony’s hand tight.

“Go garden.” Tony grumbled. “Quit hovering. You’re making me crazy.”

Loki bit back a curse and managed to smile, brushing a wisp of hair off Tony’s forehead. Ever since he had woken up from a nap a week ago complaining of a headache, his health had taken a quick turn for the worse and Loki  _knew_ he was losing him.

“The roses will keep for a day.” he said softly. “I want to stay with you.”

Tony managed to raise an eyebrow in a pale shadow of his usual wicked way. “Why do you grow roses? You love them, but why so much? I don’t think you’ve ever told me.”

“My mother’s rose garden on Asgard is something to write poetry and songs about.” Loki explained with a sad smile. “So I grow them here on earth as well. Nothing near as lovely as hers, but it will do.”

“Your mother, Frigga.” Tony mumbled. “Right?”

Loki watched him curiously. “Yes. Frigga. Why do you ask?”

“Hmmm.” Tony was having a hard time keeping his eyes open, and Loki drew in a shaky breath.  _He’s fading too fast_.

“Let me see you.” whisper weak, a barely audible request.

“What, darling?” Loki leaned closer. “What did you say?”

Tony fought to open his eyes. “Let me see you. Get rid of your glamour.”

“But, we are both old, Anthony, I have no need to–”

“Let me see that hot piece of ass I married.” Tony insisted with a wave of his hand, sounding so much like his old self, Loki couldn’t help but give in.

With a short flick of his wrist, his old man glamour disappeared, leaving him just as tall, just as young as he had ever been, with long black hair to his shoulders, bright green eyes, perfect clear skin.

“There he is.” Tony grinned and Loki leaned over to kiss him gently.

“Would you like me to change you as well? We can be young for a day together.” he said with a lecherous wink. “Surely there is  _something_ we could do with our afternoon, hm?”

Tony laughed so hard he started coughing. “I might look young, but I still wouldn’t have the energy to tear you up like I want to, so maybe not today.”

Loki nodded, holding Tony’s hand even tighter. “Of course, darling, some other day then.”

“Will you be alright?’ Tony asked, then. “After I am gone?”

“Please, don’t talk about it, Anthony, I can’t–” Loki shook his head. “I can’t talk about it. Don’t ask me that.”

“Circle of life, Simba.” came the reply, and Loki rolled his eyes at yet another movie reference he just barely understood. “I’m just saying–”

“I  _can’t_!” Loki’s voice was panicked, a sound Tony had only heard a handful of times in all their years together. “Anthony, I can’t. Don’t make me talk about it! I  _can’t_!”

“Can’t talk about it?”

“No, I can’t go on without you!” Loki pressed a hand to his chest, over his Mark. “I can  _feel_ you, my love. I can feel you slipping away  _here_ and it’s killing me. Every breath, every beat of your heart, Anthony, I can feel you slipping away from me and I can’t–”

The tears fell then, and he dropped his head onto Tony’s chest, shoulders shaking. “I can’t do it.” he choked out. “I can’t do it.”

“I went through this at least five times with you.” Tony’s words were playful, but he lay a trembling hand in Loki’s dark hair. “You can handle just once with me.”

“You’re a stronger man than me, Anthony. A better man than I could ever hope to be. I won’t survive this. I don’t  _want_ to survive this. I don’t want to, I don’t–”

“Shh. Shh now, Lo.” the only endearment Tony ever used, the only nickname he had ever given Loki, complaining that there was just no cute way of shortening the Asgardian name, and it only brought more tears to Loki’s eyes. “I’m sorry I brought it up. I’m sorry. Let’s not talk about it. Will you sing for me instead?”

“Wha-what?’ He wiped his face carelessly and brought Tony’s hands to his lips. “What was that?”

“Sing for me.” Tony insisted. “You haven’t sang our song in ages. Come on now.”

“Oh. Oh, of course, darling. Anything for you.”

Loki shuffled closer, as close to the bed as he could get without jostling Tony’s fragile frame. He pressed their lips together in a long kiss, and then bent to sing into Tony’s ear, his low voice just as strong as it had always been, the familiar words falling off his tongue the melody twisting in the air between them.

He sang until Tony was smiling again, until the tears dried in their eyes. He sang as Tony linked their fingers together and brought them over his heart, whispering how much he loved Loki.

He sang until Tony’s grip loosened, until his breathing slowed, and stopped, and until that steady, steady heartbeat beneath his hand went still and silent.

And then the Trickster god fell to his knees and screamed at the pain, as his spirit light dimmed and faded away, and the deep blue of his Mark bled to white.


	9. Chapter 9

Loki’s green eyes opened when the sun rose, and he closed them again with a curse. **  
**

He never wanted to see a sunrise again.

It hadn’t gotten any easier after all these weeks, facing a day without Anthony at his side. The bed was too big, the cozy house suddenly claustrophobic, and rose garden simply hateful in all it’s beauty.

He wanted to bury himself in the house and never leave.

He wanted to burn the cabin to the ground and scream until his voice ran hoarse.

He just wanted it to…stop.

He wanted it all to stop.

 _Roses_.

A sharp burst of scent reached his nose, and he frowned, in a split second transporting himself from pajamas in the bedroom to fully dressed and standing in the kitchen. Who the hell was coming to interrupt his grieving, who could  _possibly_ think to bother him now of all times?

The swing in the garden was moving, and in another second Loki stood in front of it.

“ _Mother_.” weeks of sadness had leached his voice of any emotion, even if he was shocked to find Frigga in his garden. “It has been…a while.”

“Decades, my son.” Frigga’s beautiful eyes filled with tears the moment she saw, and she held out a hand for him. “ _Oh_ , you are in such pain, Loki, I can hardly stand it. Oh, my son. Come here.”

Loki ignored the outstretched hand, the mention of his grief and sat on the bench next to her, swallowing a lump in his throat and kicking the swing into motion. “What brings you to my garden, Mother? I managed nearly forty years without any mischief, so what could I have possibly done to catch Asgards interest?”

“Not Asgards interest,” Frigga corrected gently, “a  _mother’s_ interest. It has been so long since you have been home. Perhaps it’s time for you to–”

“Asgard is not my home. Has not been for centuries. This is my home now. Here where I-”

His voice cracked, but he flinched away when Frigga reached for him. “Here where  _we_ lived together.”

“They gave him a hero’s burial, you know.” From the air, Frigga summoned a newspaper, the one from weeks ago, announcing that billionaire and former Iron Man Anthony Stark had passed away. “A statue in the park. A Medal of Honor. Everything he deserved.”

Loki didn’t reach for the paper. He had already read it.

It was pages long, the obituary for Tony Stark, for Iron Man. Every hero had come forward with something to say, people sharing stories, drawing pictures, making tribute videos. The articles went on to say how his death was mourned by millions, how the world would be radically different if Iron Man hadn’t come along, how it would never be the same now that he was gone.

“Yes.” he said bitterly.  “The humans waited until he was gone before choosing to remember all he had done for them. Nevermind that his own friends abandoned him, chased him from his city, tossed him away like yesterday’s trash. I attended the…the funeral. It was  _obscene_.” Loki sneered the word. “It wasn’t a funeral, it was a media circus. Everyone there to be photographed as if they gave a damn about him.”

“They didn’t know of your relationship, did they?” Frigga queried. “Surely you didn’t go as yourself?”

“No, I went as–” a wave of his hand, and his image flickered to his old man visage, then back to his usual self. “Not even that red headed bitch spy recognized me, even though I am certain I am one of her least favorite people. And no, no one knew of Anthony and I. It was our secret to know and to hold, not theirs to ruin and exploit. I almost wish they did, so I could see their expression as I rub their hypocrisy in their faces.”

“Becoming petty and vindictive again so soon, my son?” Frigga sounded sad. “Is that it?”

“Mother. I have nothing left.” Loki lay his head back on the swing. “Now that my light is gone, I have nothing left but to go back to my tricks and pranks and magic and wander the worlds aimlessly for more millenia. _Of course_  I am growing petty and vindictive again. Honestly, it’s what I do best. I don’t want to feel anything. But if I  _have_ to feel something, at least it's…” he waved his hands in the air and let his voice trail off.

“Can I tell you a story?”

“I am not a child.” he responded coldly, “and I do not want a story.”

Frigga sighed. “No you are not a child, but you are still my son, and I will comfort you the way I do best.” her voice caught and she opened her arms. “By rocking my baby, and telling him a story, and singing him a song to soothe his–”

“Do not sing.” Loki snapped. “Don’t you  _dare_.” He clenched his fists, back bowing under the effort of keeping his emotions in check. “All those times you sang to me, telling me one day I’d find my spirit light? You never told me what to do when I lost him again. Don’t you dare sing to me that song.” 

“Loki–”

“No!” he shouted, shaking his head. “Because I finally  _did_ find him, Mother, and I didn’t even get forty years with him. I waited  _centuries_ and only received half of his life.” Tears welled, and dropped and Loki didn’t bother to wipe them away. “But it happened just like you said. I found him, and  _loved_ him, and just a few weeks ago, I held him and sang him to sleep.” Loki’s voice finally broke and he covered his face with his hands.

“I sang until I felt his light go out completely. And now look where I am. Alone  _again_. What am I supposed to do now? Where am I supposed to travel, what’s the point of traveling when there’s nothing, _no one_ , to call me home? Mother, how am I supposed to go on from this? My light is gone and if I have to hear that song again I might– I might–”

This time Loki didn’t resist when Frigga pulled him close, crying her own tears as her youngest son sobbed in her arms, clinging to her and shaking in his pain.

“Just the story then.” she whispered over an unsteady breath. “Put your head on my lap, darling. Just like we used to.” She ran fingers through his hair, trying to find the words to comfort him. “Now–  now listen well, my son.”

“It is written,” she began, “an old legend of two soul mates, trying to find each other. One traveled through the skies, the worlds, the dimensions, looking for his mate, looking for the one whose spirit shone so bright, he could find him even through the ages, the one who would give him a place to call home. It took years, centuries even, until one day the traveler finally met the one who shined, the one whose spirit blazed out from his chest with a holy light. But even after waiting this long, the time wasn’t right, and they had to part ways, but because they were destined, they met again on the shores of a mighty lake.”

She wiped the tears from Loki’s cheeks. “When their souls finally melded,” she continued quietly. “when their bond finally sparked, it burned so brightly and so pure that even the gods themselves were in awe of their love. So when the spirit light began to dim, the gods interceded and cast both the light and the traveler into the sky as one star, so they could roam together for eternity. And every few decades when the star passed over Midgard, all of mankind was reminded that pure, perfect love was possible, and that not even time or space or death could tear true soulmates apart.”

Loki listened with more tears falling down his face, biting at his lip so he wouldn’t cry out, the story so familiar it both soothed and destroyed his heart all at once.

“My son.” Frigga pushed at him gently until he sat up, and cupped his cheeks between her hands. “You have believed for so long that you are cursed, cursed to never find your soulmate, cursed to never be at peace, cursed to wander these worlds and realms alone. But believe me now, Loki Laufeyson, when I say that from this day on, you are blessed.”

She leaned forward and kissed his forehead, and then with a bright pulse of light she was gone, leaving behind the sharp scent of too many roses.

Loki sat there for a long time, staring out over his garden, not wanting to leave the warm memory of his mother for the cold empty house, still raw and aching over the story, over having to talk about Anthony, having to put words to the grief that welled so black in his soul. 

For a minute he thought about leaving Earth all together, following his mother back to Asgard and losing himself in the familiar world for a few centuries, until this all stopped hurting.

But he couldn’t stomach the thought of leaving their home, of sleeping anywhere but they bed they had shared, cooking food anywhere but their kitchen, so with a heavy sigh, he forced himself back to the lonely cabin, ready to go through the motions of eating if just for the way it made him feel close to Tony again.

He was reaching into the fridge for eggs, wondering if the milk had gone bad yet, when a voice startled him.  

“Um, are you making breakfast? Can I–Can I have some too?”

Loki dropped the container of eggs, splattering them all over the floor, and turned to…. stare.

“Anthony.” he gasped, and his knees nearly gave out. “A- _Anthony_?”

Tony rubbed a hand through his full head of dark spiky hair, smiling sheepishly. “Hey, Lo.” Tony grinned to himself when he looked down his shirtless body. No scars from the arc reactor, no nerve damage from so many years getting tossed around in his suit. His back was strong and straight, hands steady, vision perfect. “Check me out. I’m thirty again.”

“How is this…” Loki swallowed hard, forcing back the urge to scream. “Anthony, I  _buried_ you. How are you here?”

“I remember falling asleep in the bedroom, listening to you sing.” Tony said slowly. “And then I woke up in a rose garden with your mom…Frigga. She came to me in a dream once, you know, about a week before I–” he shook his head when Loki cringed. “– a week before it all. I saw her again, but I recognized her this time.”

“What did she say to you?” Loki asked, still just staring, sure that he was seeing a spirit, sure that his grief had broken him and his mind was playing tricks on him. “My mother. What– what did she want?”

“She asked me to watch her roses while she visited her son. That’s all she said. So I wandered through the garden, and I’m pretty sure she was only gone a few minutes? But then just now, I woke up in our bed. Just like that.”

“I don’t understand… How is this…” Loki hissed, and grabbed at his chest as it started to burn, tearing his shirt off to look down at his Mark, which was flooding with deep blue color again.

“My Mark.” he gaped down at the blue script. “My soulmate. It’s really  _you_.”

“It…really is.” Tony shifted on his feet, a hand over his own Mark. “Frigga told me a story, a legend or something, about two soulmates who were turned into stars because–”

“–their love burned so pure that gods couldn’t bear to see them separated.” Loki finished, and Tony grinned.

“You heard it too, huh? I got the weirdest feeling she was talking about us.”

“Imagine that.” Loki agreed and they fell silent, unable to take their eyes off each other.

“I am loathe to look badly at such an amazing gift, but…” After a minute, Loki spread his hands in bewilderment. “Anthony, I don’t understand–”

“But nothing.” Tony interrupted. “Let’s deal with technicalities later. I am thirty again, husband, and feeling just  _wonderful_.”

Loki looked up, his green eyes catching Tony’s dark ones as they roamed greedily over his body.

“ _Thirty_. Which is fifteen years younger than I was when we joined for the first time.” Tony pressed. “So maybe let’s figure out the science behind what happened later, and you know… carpe diem.”

“What are you getting at, Anthony?” Loki asked, smiling that damn  _smile_ that made Tony’s blood pressure skyrocket.

“Come on, soulmate,” Tony held out his hand coaxingly, “show me some magic. My heart is pumping so let’s make good use of it. There’s about a thousand things we can talk about later but for right now–”  He tossed Loki his best roguish grin, biting his lip in anticipation when Loki started moving towards him, hand reaching out.

“My love. I still can’t believe it’s really–”

Sparks erupted between their palms, a visible bolt of electricity arcing through the few inches separating them and cracking in the air.

Tony’s dark eyes widened, and Loki grinned, waving his fingers, letting the energy bend and flex between them.

“It’s really you.” he stepped closer, closing the distance to lace their fingers together as the energy hummed and sparked. “My soulmate. My spirit light. I’ve found you again. You’re home again.”

“Are you trying to make me cry?” Tony asked, and Loki smiled, reaching up to wipe the tears already falling down Tony’s face. “Because I’d much rather you just seduce me.”

Loki hummed a few bars of their song and snapped his fingers, sending them both into the bedroom and onto the bed. Tony started laughing, full and rich and  _gorgeous_ and it was the sweetest sound Loki had ever heard.

“My Spirit Light.” he whispered.

“Sky Traveller.” Tony whispered back. “Sing our song for me.”


	10. Chapter 10

_Many, many years later…._

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“Phillip, put that old book down and come greet our new neighbors! Boys, I am so sorry about him.” Sweet, bubbly Mrs. Lynn, said apologetically. “He saw a comet last night and has been buried up to his  _elbows_ in books trying to research which one it is.”

“I found it!” Phillip Lynn came rushing down his stairs, waving an old, thick book. “Look at this, boys this should interest you. The comet that came around last night is called…” he traced his finger over the page. “..The Traveler. It comes around once every fifty years, and the oldest story of it is this Norse legend that I found. Something about a god who could walk through realms, and his soulmate, who had a light in his chest that drew the god home.”

He peered up through his glasses at the visitors in his home. “Of course I’m paraphrasing, but it’s a lovely story. And so interesting because the comet was first recorded in in the mid 21st century, and we only have a few hundred years worth of information on it now. For all intents and purposes, it just appeared in orbit one day and they named it after the Norse legend for whatever reason, probably something romantic.”

“Dear, they don’t care about this sort of thing!” Misty scolded, and turned with a big smile. “Now, you boys just moved in? New neighbors are so exciting!”

“Yes ma’am, just up the hill. I’ve always had a soft spot for this part of the world. Ancestors and all that.”

“Yes, of course. Such an interesting name you have, Laufeyson. Are you aware that’s considered the surname of the Trickster god, Loki?” Phillip interjected.

“I am aware.” the men, who looked to be in their mid thirties exchanged fond smiles. “We enjoy the village, it is pleasant to be away from so much technology. Life moves a bit slower here.”

“That it does. Not much changes in the hills up here, I imagine this place is the same as it was two hundred years ago when the comet first appeared, and two hundred years before that as well.” Phillip took the cup of tea his wife handed him and sat on the couch. “So, It’s Logan and–”

“Anthony.” Tony reached out and shook his hand. “And we just call my husband Lo. And you know what? I would just  _love_ to hear that legend about the comet, if you wouldn’t mind.”

“Oh! Excellent! Of course!” Phillip rifled through the book pages excitedly until he found what he was looking for. “Here it is.” he began reading in a somber voice, “‘It is written in the times of the gods, an old legend of two soul mates searching for each other…”

“Honestly? You want to hear  _this_ story?” Loki wound their fingers together, smiling over at his husband. “Haven’t you heard it enough?”

“Hush, my favorite part is when the traveler finds his spirit light.” Tony admonished, and Loki squeezed his hand.

“That is my favorite part, as well.”

He rubbed his Mark gently, over the deep blue letters that hadn’t ever turned white again after that first and last awful time so many years ago.

Tony had stayed thirty all this time, young and unblemished, as beautiful and witty and clever as he had always been, and they never aged a day together as the world turned and changed around them.

Every fifty years or so, the star that had appeared the morning Tony had come back would pass over head, and they would pick up and move on from wherever they had been living. From California to Australia, there a memorable time in Rome, then they were riding as ranchers in South America, and another time teaching at a school in Turkey.

It didn’t matter where they were or where they went, so long as they were  _together_.

Tony laughed every day now, at every trick Loki played on him, and Loki marveled at the things Tony could create out of just a few random parts and pieces. They stuck to small towns and villages as they traveled, places where they could quietly live their life painting and hiking and tinkering in their garage.

When war broke out again and the world went to shit, they retreated to the mountains, having seen enough of fighting to last an eternity. 

When technology made so many leaps forward that men were able to live on distant planets, Tony had been jealous and wistful, so Loki took him to Alfheim, showing him flowers and animals Tony still struggled to describe, creatures and people Tony couldn’t even fathom.

But they always came back to Earth, back to whichever little cabin they were calling home at the time to cook breakfast together, to paint, to tinker, to spend lazy afternoons in the sun.

And every night,no matter where they were, Loki wrapped his arms around his soulmate, and sang him to sleep.

In all these years, Tony had never asked for a translation, had never cared to know what the words were. It was enough for him to hear Loki sing it and he hummed along to the familiar tune until he fell asleep.

But Loki knew what the words meant, because they were in the same language as the ancient writing across Tony’s arm.

It was the same song Frigga had written so many millennia ago, for the tiny baby that she’d adopted after war with the Frost Giants.

It was a song as old as the god himself, and as perfect as the bond between them, a song that spoke of the love story of two soulmates who finally found each other–

One that had traveled the stars searching for his love, and the other that had always shone brightly enough to bring him home.

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**End.**

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